OUSE 


By  Mrs  CN.Willianison 

±*r 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 


THE  HOUSE  BY 
THE  LOCK 


BY 

MRS.  C.  N.  WILLIAMSON 

Co-author  of 
igJ^mng  Conductor,"  "Ify  Lady  dndtretta,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 
B.  W.  DODGE   AND   COMPANY 

1906 


PRESS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  <t  CO- 

BOOKBINDERS  AND  PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN,  N.  Y. 


CONTENTS 


I.  THE  LADY  IN  THE  STAGE  Box 1 

II.  THE  MAN  WITH  THE  PALE  EYES 12 

III.  A  DEAD  MAN'S  HAND .     .     22 

IV.  THE  HOUSE  BY  THE  LOCK       ......     30 

V.  WAS  IT  A  MYSTERY? 88 

VI.   AN  ADVENTURE  IN  THE  PARK 53 

VII.  FRIENDS 67 

VIII.   AN  ANNOUNCEMENT 74 

IX.  Too  LATE 83 

X.   "IF  HE  HAD  COMMITTED  A  CRIME"    ...     92 

XI.  WILDRED  SCORES 99 

XII.   KARINE'S  ENGAGEMENT  RING 116 

XIII.  "  KISMET  AND  Miss  CUNNINGHAM"        .     .     .    121 

XIV.  AN  EXTRA  SPECIAL 133 

XV.  A  MYSTERY  OF  THE  THAMES 1 36 

XVI.  INFORMATION  LAID  BY  CARSON  WILDRED    .     .143 

XVII.  A  DISAPPOINTMENT 152 

XVIII.   A  DESPERATE  REMEDY 166 

XIX.   "NOT  AT  HOME" 176 

XX.   THE  QUEST 188 

T 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTT.R  FA08 

XXI.  A  PICTURE  FROM  THE  PAST 208 

XXII.  PACK  TO  FACE .     .  220 

XXIII.  A  COUNTERFEIT  PRESENTMENT  ".  224 

XXIV.  FIRE! 232 

XXV.   "  IT'S  DOGGED  AS  DOES  IT  "      ....  239 

XXVI.  A  TELL-TALE  ORNAMENT 246 

XXVII.  Too  LATE  ! 269 

XXVIII.  A  WILD-GOOSE  CHASE 276 

XXIX.  AT  THE  HOUSE  BY  THE  LOCK       ....  284 

XXX.  CONCLUSION  .  298 


THE  HOUSE  BY  THE  LOCK 

CHAPTER   I 

THE  LADY  IN  THE  STAGE  BOX 

"  HULLO,  old  chap !  Who  would  ever  have 
thought  of  seeing  you  here  to-night?  What's 
brought  you  back  to  civilisation  again? " 

I  turned  suddenly,  surprised  by  the  sound 
of  a  familiar  voice  in  my  ear.  It  was  the  night 
of  Christmas  Eve,  and  I  was  just  entering  the 
lobby  of  the  St.  James's,  the  first  time,  as  it 
happened,  I  had  seen  the  inside  of  a  theatre  for 
two  years. 

For  the  fraction  of  a  moment  I  could  not 
remember  where  I  had  known  the  man  who  ad- 
dressed me  so  jovially.  My  way  of  knocking 
about  the  world  brought  me  into  contact  with 
so  many  people  that  it  was  difficult  to  sort  my 
gallery  of  faces,  and  keep  each  one  mentally 
ticketed.  But  after  a  second  or  two  of  star- 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

ing  through  that  convenient  medium,  my  mon- 
ocle, I  was  able  to  place  the  man  who  had 
accosted  me.  He  was  a  rich  mining  king  from 
Colorado,  by  the  name  of  Harvey  Farnham, 
whom  I  had  met  in  Denver,  when  I  had  been 
dawdling  through  America  three  or  four 
years  ago. 

I  pronounced  his  name  with  a  certain  self- 
satisfaction  in  having  so  readily  recalled  it,  and 
we  shook  each  other  by  the  hand. 

"What's  brought  me  back  to  civilisation?" 
I  echoed,  lazily.  "  I  really  don't  know — un- 
less it  was  because  I'd  got  tired  of  the  other 
thing.  Adventure — change — that's  what  I  am 
in  search  of,  my  dear  Farnham." 

"  And  you  come  back  here  from  service  as 
war  correspondent  in  Egypt  (where  I  last  read 
of  you  in  the  papers  as  having  been  carried 
down  a  cataract  for  twenty-six  miles  before  a 
launch  ran  out  and  saved  you)  in  the  hope  of 
finding  *  adventure '  in  this  workaday  close  of 
the  nineteenth  century?  That's  too  good." 

I  laughed  and  shrugged  my  shoulders. 
"  Yes;  why  not?  Why  should  there  not  be  as 


LADY   IN   THE    STAGE    BOX 

great  a  possibility  of  obtaining  new  sensations, 
or  at  least  old  ones  in  different  form,  in  Lon- 
don as  anywhere  else? " 

It  did  not  occur  to  me,  as  I  idly  spoke  the 
words,  that  I  was  uttering  a  prophecy. 

"  How  is  it,"  I  went  on  rather  curiously, 
"  that  you  remembered  me,  '  honouring  my 
draft  on  sight,'  so  to  speak?  It  must  be  four 
years  since  that  very  jolly  supper  you  gave  me 
in  Denver  one  night,  and  I  fancy  I  have 
changed  considerably  since  then." 

Farnham  smiled  in  his  comical  American 
way,  which  was  a  humorous  sentence  in  itself. 

'  Well,  I  guess  it's  not  so  easy  to  forget  a 
face  like  yours.  You  are  a  little  browner,  your 
eyes  rather  keener  perhaps,  your  head  held  a 
bit  higher,  your  shoulders  broader  and  drawn 
back  more  like  a  soldier's  than  ever;  but,  so 
far  as  I  can  see,  those  are  the  only  changes. 
You  might  easily  have  forgotten  me,  and  I'm 
immensely  flattered  that  you  haven't.  But  the 
fact  is,  my  dear  boy,  you  are  simply  the  most 
interesting  man  I  ever  came  across,  in  my  own 
country  or  any  other.  You've  always  seemed 

3 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

like  a  sort  of  hero  of  a  tale  of  adventure  to  me ; 
and,  you  see,  one  don't  let  a  chap  like  that  drop 
out  of  one's  recollection.  I've  always  eagerly 
followed  your  doings,  so  far  as  one  could  fol- 
low them  in  the  newspapers,  and  I  read  your 
African  book  with  the  greatest  interest;  but 
somehow  I  never  got  to  hear  much  personal 
gossip  about  you.  Say,  are  you  married  or 
anything? " 

"  Many  things,  but  not  married,"  I  returned. 
"  I  haven't  had  time  to  think  of  women.  Be- 
sides, if  I  had,  who  would  take  me  ?  No  money, 
no  prospects,  a  man  who  can't  be  happy  for  a 
fortnight  in  one  place!  What  a  life  I  should 
lead  a  woman!" 

"Ah,  that's  one  side  of  the  picture,  of 
course;  but  here's  the  other,  as  the  world  sees 
it.  You're  a  sort  of  popular  hero — African 
traveller,  war  correspondent,  writer  of  books, 
Polar  explorer,  and  I  don't  know  what  besides, 
though  you  can't  yet  be  anywhere  near  thirty- 
five.  You've  got  the  figure  of  a  soldier,  and 
just  the  sort  of  dark,  unreadable  face  that 
women  rave  about.  What  does  money  matter 

4 


LADY   IN   THE    STAGE   BOX 

with  a  chap  like  that?  Nothing.  I  wonder 
you've  managed  to  escape  the  matchmaking 
mammas  so  long.  They're  quite  as  keen  on  a 
celebrity,  in  my  country  at  least,  as  they  are 
on  a  millionaire." 

"  Nevertheless,  they  have  not  given  me  much 
trouble,"  I  said,  smiling  a  little,  however,  at  the 
remembrance  of  one  or  two  amusing  episodes 
which  I  had  not  the  slightest  intention  of  re- 
lating. "  There,  the  way  to  the  box-office  is 
clear  at  last.  Once  that  fat  old  man  is  out  of 
the  way,  it  will  be  my  turn.  Shall  I  get  your 
stall  for  you,  and  so  save  time? " 

"  Yes,  by  all  means,  thank  you.  Are  you 
alone,  Stanton? " 

"  Quite  alone.  I'd  almost  forgotten  what 
the  theatre  was  like,  and  determined  to  come 
and  refresh  my  memory." 

"  I'm  by  myself,  too.  Say,  old  man,  would 
it  be  a  liberty  if  I  asked  you  to  try  and  get 
stalls  for  us  together? " 

"  Delighted,  I'm  sure,"  I  answered,  though, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  was  not  quite  certain 
whether  I  was  telling  the  truth  or  not.  Farn- 

5 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

ham  had  been  well  enough  in  Denver,  but  I  did 
not  know  whether  I  should  care  to  pass  in  his 
society  a  whole  evening,  which  I  had  meant 
to  be  one  of  solitary  enjoyment.  However,  he 
had  left  me  nothing  else  to  say,  and  I  re- 
sponded with  what  alacrity  I  could,  little 
dreaming  that  my  whole  future  was  hanging 
on  my  words,  and  the  result  of  my  confab  with 
the  man  in  the  box-office. 

The  play  was  a  popular  one,  and  perhaps 
on  no  night  of  the  year,  save  Christmas  Eve 
or  some  Lenten  fast,  could  we  have  obtained 
two  stalls  side  by  side  a  few  minutes  before 
the  ringing-up  of  the  curtain.  As  it  was,  we 
were  successful,  and  I  walked  into  the  theatre 
by  the  side  of  the  tall,  thin,  smooth-faced 
American. 

We  sat  down,  in  the  third  or  f  ourtK  row  of 
the  stalls,  and,  as  the  orchestra  had  not  yet 
come  in,  began  to  talk. 

Farnham  explained  to  me  that  he  had  "  run 
over  "  to  England  on  business,  intending  to 
.sell  a  certain  mine  of  his,  which,  though  vastly 
profitable,  was  the  one  thing  in  which  he  had 

6 


LADY   IN   THE    STAGE    BOX 

lost  interest.  The  other  mines  in  which  he  was 
part  owner  were  situated  in  his  own  state,  Colo- 
rado, while  this  particular  one,  the  "  Miss  Cun- 
ningham," was  in  California,  and  he  was  tired 
of  journeying  to  and  fro. 

"I've  had  a  good  offer,"  he  said;  "indeed, 
I'm  visiting  in  the  house  of  the  man  who  has 
made  it — a  wonderful  fellow,  only  one  degree 
less  interesting,  perhaps,  than  you.  His  name 
is  Carson  Wildred.  Did  you  ever  hear  of 
him?" 

"  No,"  I  answered,  though  possibly  not  to 
know  Mr.  Carson  Wildred  was  to  argue  my- 
self unknown. 

"  He  seems  to  have  plenty  of  money,"  ex- 
plained Farnham,  "  and  though  he's  a  new- 
comer in  London,  has  got  in  with  a  number  of 
good  people.  He  has  two  houses,  one  in  Sloane 
Street  and  one  up  the  Thames,  a  queer,  lonely 
old  place,  near  Purley  Lock,  if  you  know 
where  that  is.  I'm  staying  out  there  with  him 
now,  as  it  happens,  though  I  can't  say  I'm  as 
fond  of  the  river  as  he  is  at  this  season.  But 
when  a  few  papers  and  a  good  round  sum  of 

7 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

money  have  changed  hands,  a  couple  of  days 
or  so  from  now,  I  shall  bid  Wildred  and  Eng- 
land au  revoir.  I  expect  to  sail  for  America 
at  the  end  of  the  week,  and  jolly  lucky  I  think 
myself  to  have  run  up  against  you  to-night." 

Somehow,  as  he  rattled  on  about  his  own 
affairs,  my  heart  began  to  warm  towards  Farn- 
ham.  He  was  not  a  particularly  brilliant  fel- 
low, though  a  good  business  man;  but  he  had 
such  a  whimsical  face,  with  its  bright  eyes,  its 
good-natured  mouth,  and  its  laughable,  up- 
turned nose!  He  was  so  frankly  interested  in 
life,  so  enthusiastic,  so  outspoken,  so  boyish 
in  many  of  his  ways,  despite  his  forty  years! 
I  found  myself  almost  inclined  to  be  sorry  that 
he  was  leaving  England  so  soon. 

"  I  should  like  you  to  meet  Wildred,"  he 
went  on.  "  I  don't  know  whether  you'd  fancy 
him,  but  you  couldn't  help  thinking  his  a  re- 
markable personality.  It  would  be  interesting 
to  see  you  two  chaps  together.  He's  at  the 
theatre  to-night,  by  the  way,  with  some  friends 
of  his — rather  swells.  It  was  an  old  engage- 
ment, made  before  I  went  out  to  his  house,  but 

8 


LADY   IN   THE    STAGE   BOX 

he  had  to  keep  it,  of  course.  They'll  be  in  that 
stage  box  over  there,  and  as  Wildred  has  been 
industriously  raising  my  curiosity  about  the 
beauty  of  one  of  the  ladies  for  the  past  few 
days,  I  concluded  to  drop  in  and  take  the  only 
chance  I  was  likely  to  get  of  a  look  at  her. 
And  mighty  glad  I  am  that  I  did  so  make  up 
my  mind,  or  I  should  have  left  England  with- 
out clapping  eyes  on  someone  I'd  rather  see 
than  all  the  professional  beauties  in  London." 

As  he  finished  speaking  the  overture,  which 
had  now  been  on  for  some  time,  ceased,  and 
the  curtain  went  up  on  a  very  pretty  bit  of 
stage  setting. 

There  was  no  curtain-raiser,  and  the  first 
act  was  well  constructed  and  interesting  from 
the  commencement.  It  was  delightful  to  me 
to  feel,  as  I  did,  that  I  was  no  longer  blase  of 
town  life,  or  the  mimic  life  of  the  theatre,  and 
I  was  inclined  to  resent  the  interruption  when 
Farnham  nudged  me,  whispering — 

"  There's  Wildred  and  his  friends  just  com- 
ing into  the  stage  box.  By  Jove !  what  a  pretty 
girl!" 

9 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

I  looked  up,  because  I  was  sure  the  volatile 
American  would  give  me  no  peace  until  I  had 
done  so;  and  then,  having  looked  up,  I 
promptly  forgot  the  play  and  its  dramatis 
personce. 

Two  years  I  had  spent  in  Africa  and  Egypt, 
and  I  had  not  seen  many  fair  faces  during  that 
time  of  travel  and  campaigning.  I  was  in  a 
mood,  therefore,  to  appreciate  the  delicate 
loveliness  of  English  women;  but,  even  had  I 
been  surfeited  with  beauty,  my  eyes  would  have 
lingered  in  a  species  of  wonder  on  the  girl  just 
seating  herself  in  a  corner  of  the  stage  box. 
It  is  possible  that  I  have  seen  other  women  as 
beautiful,  many  more  classically  perfect  of 
feature,  but  never  have  I  looked  upon  a  face 
so  radiant,  so  bewildering. 

For  the  moment  I  scarcely  glanced  at  the 
girl's  companions,  though  I  was  vaguely  con- 
scious that  there  was  an  older  woman,  and  that 
two  men  were  taking  chairs  in  the  darker  back- 
ground of  the  box. 

All  the  other  figures  on  the  stage  and  in  the 
auditorium  became  meaningless  for  me.  There 

10 


LADY   IN   THE    STAGE   BOX 

was  the  dazzling  girl  in  white,  and,  so  far  as  I 
was  concerned,  no  one  else  in  the  theatre. 

The  simple,  snowy  frock,  without  jewels  or 
ornamentation  of  any  kind,  was  the  most  be- 
coming frame  which  could  have  been  chosen 
for  the  picture.  The  oval  face,  with  its  pearly 
skin,  its  curved  red  lips,  its  starry,  long-lashed 
eyes  (which  might  have  been  brown  or  violet, 
so  far  as  I  could  tell) ,  and  the  aureole  of  wav- 
ing, ruddy  gold  hair  were  all  so  vivid  in  their 
marvellous  effect  of  colour,  that  the  dead  white 
gown  set  them  off  far  more  artistically  than 
the  most  carefully-chosen  tints  could  have  done. 

The  girl  could  not,  I  thoilght,  have  been 
more  than  twenty,  and  every  turn  of  the  beau- 
tifully-poised little  head,  every  dimpling  smile, 
told  that  she  was  full  of  the  joy  of  life. 

"What  do  you  think  of  Wildred?"  whis- 
pered Farnham,  his  lazy  American  drawl  wak- 
ing me  out  of  a  dream. 

I  did  not  wish  him  to  see  how  completely 
I  had  been  absorbed,  how  foolishly  I  had  lost 
my  head,  and  therefore  I  turned  my  attention 
to  the  two  men  in  the  back  of  the  box. 

11 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  MAN  WITH  THE  PALE  EYES 

En  passant,  my  eyes  dwelt  for  an  instant 
upon  a  stout  woman  of  a  certain  age,  whose 
figure  was  encased  in  a  sort  of  armour  of  steel- 
grey  satin  and  beads,  and  whose  carefully-ar- 
ranged head  was  adorned  by  a  small  tiara  of 
diamonds,  but  they  found  no  temptation  to 
linger. 

One  of  the  men  was  old,  grey-haired,  and 
large  of  girth,  with  a  huge  expanse  of  snowy 
shirt,  and  a  head  guiltless  of  hair.  The  other 
was  comparatively  young,  not  many  years  past 
my  own  age,  perhaps,  and  a  curious  thrill, 
which  I  could  not  myself  have  explained, 
passed  through  me  as  I  looked,  through  half- 
shut  eyes,  at  his  face.  Where  had  I  seen  it 
before?  Or  did  it  bear  but  a  haunting  resem- 
blance to  some  other,  painted  on  my  memory's 
retina  in  lurid,  yet  partially  obliterated, 
colours  ? 

12 


MAN  WITH  THE  PALE  EYES 

I  had  no  doubt  which  of  the  two  was  Carson 
Wildred,  Farnham's  friend  and  host.  What 
he  had  said  of  the  man's  personality  assured 
me  of  his  identity. 

It  was  passing  strange  to  me  that  I  should 
he  so  strongly  impressed  by  the  feeling  that  I 
had  seen  the  face  before,  under  startling  and 
disagreeable  circumstances,  and  yet  be  unable 
to  identify  it.  Something  seemed  to  be  lack- 
ing, or  changed,  which  broke  the  chain  of  evi- 
dence in  my  mind.  Surely  I  should  have  been 
able  to  remember  that  peculiar  nose,  with  the 
flattened  bridge,  now  presented  to  me  in  pro- 
file. 

It  would  be  a  sign  of  a  lacking  bump  of 
observation  to  have  forgotten  the  angle  of  that 
protruding  lower  jaw,  and  the  strong  contrast 
between  the  almost  copper-coloured  skin,  jet 
black  hair,  and  large,  brilliant  blue  eyes — so 
light  as  to  appear  almost  white. 

It  was  impossible,  I  told  myself,  that  I  had 
met  the  man  before.  His  remarkable  and  un- 
common cast  of  features  had  no  niche  in  my 
recollection,  and  yet  I  knew  that  in  some  cru- 

13 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

cial  moment  I  had  looked  into  those  pale  and 
scintillating  eyes. 

A  wave  of  repulsion  swept  over  me.  I  could 
not  remember  when  I  had  experienced  two 
such  keen  emotions  as  my  surprised  admira- 
tion for  the  girl,  and  the  dislike,  almost 
amounting  to  disgust,  which  I  felt  for  Farn- 
ham's  friend,  Carson  Wildred.  Something 
deeper  than  mere  annoyance  surged  in  my 
breast,  that  that  dark  personality  should  lurk 
so  near  to  the  spotless  whiteness  of  the  gauzy 
drapery,  which  vaguely  seemed  to  me  a  part  of 
the  girl's  self. 

"  Eh?  What  did  you  say?  How  do  you 
like  his  looks?  Peculiar  face,  isn't  it?"  que- 
ried Farnham,  close  to  my  ear. 

"  Yes,  it  is  peculiar,"  I  answered,  mechan- 
ically, snatching  at  the  phrase. 

"  And  the  girl!  Isn't  she  something  rather 
choice? " 

"  Very  lovely.    Who  is  she?  " 

"A  Miss  Karine  Cunningham.  Same  name 
as  the  mine  that  Wildred  is  going  to  take  off 

14 


MAN  WITH  THE  PALE  EYES 

my  hands.  Merely  a  coincidence,  but  I  fancy 
it  influenced  him  in  his  wish  to  buy  the  prop- 
erty, perhaps.  He  is  very  much  in  love  with 
the  girl,  and  rich  as  he  apparently  is,  she  can 
more  than  match  him,  I  should  say.  She's  an 
orphan,  whose  father,  though  he  came  of  what 
you  English  call  a  '  good  family,'  made  his 
pile  in  trade ;  and  Sir  Walter  Tressidy,  who  is 
in  the  box  with  his  wife,  was  her  guardian  until 
she  came  of  age,  about  a  year  ago.  She  still 
lives  with  them,  and  Lady  Tressidy  takes  her 
about.  All  these  things  Wildred,  who  is  never 
so  happy  as  when  he  is  talking  of  Miss  Cun- 
ningham, has  told  me;  so  you  see,  I'm  pretty 
well  primed  as  to  her  antecedents,  means,  and 
so  on.  The  girl  has  thirty  thousand  pounds  a 
year  if  she  has  a  penny.  Whew!  Only  think 
what  that  means  in  American  money.  She 
could  buy  and  sell  me." 

I  might  have  truthfully  replied  that  the 
young  lady  could  have  had  me  without  either 
buying  or  selling,  since — for  the  first  time  since 
my  callow  days — these  few  moments  had 

15 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

taught  me  what  it  was  to  experience  a  wild 
quickening  of  the  pulses  under  the  casual 
glance  of  a  woman's  eyes. 

She  had  seen  me.  So  much  satisfaction  at 
least  was  mine.  Wildred  had  doubtless  pointed 
out  his  friend,  and  her  gaze  had  passed  on  to 
me — drawn,  perhaps,  by  the  compelling  mag- 
netism of  the  strange  new  feeling  which  domi- 
nated me. 

Wishing  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  rude- 
ness, I  would  have  looked  away,  but  I  found 
myself  for  an  instant  unable  to  do  so.  It  was 
ridiculous  to  fancy  it,  and  yet  I  could  not  help 
imagining  that  the  girl's  exquisite  face  lighted 
up  with  an  expression  akin  to  interest  as  her 
eyes  rested  upon  mine. 

It  was  for  me  a  moment  of  intoxication,  as 
I  felt  that  those  twin  violet  lakes  received,  full 
in  their  depths,  the  involuntary  outpouring  of 
my  soul.  A  sensation  as  of  being  wrenched 
away  from  some  safe  mooring  passed  through 
me  as  she  withdrew  her  gaze,  and,  turning  her 
head,  whispered  to  Lady  Tressidy,  who  sat  be- 
side her.  The  latter  then  looked  at  me,  and 

16 


MAN  WITH  THE  PALE  EYES 

unhesitatingly  put  up  her  sparkling  lorgn- 
ettes. 

Farnham  had  not  failed  to  observe  this 
little  pantomime,  and  was  vastly  amused 
thereby. 

"  This  is  what  comes  of  being  a  celebrity!  " 
he  chuckled.  "They've  recognised  you  from 
the  pictures  that  were  in  all  the  papers  a  couple 
of  months  ago,  or  perhaps  by  the  photos  that 
were  published  when  your  book  came  out." 

"  Nonsense ! "  I  said,  rather  irritably. 
'  They're  only  annoyed,  perhaps,  at  our  star- 
ing. Let's  turn  our  attention  to  the  stage." 

I  set  the  example  which  I  recommended,  but 
before  doing  so  I  gave  myself  the  indulgence 
of  one  more  lingering  glance,  and  saw  that 
Carson  Wildred  was  eyeing  me  with  undis- 
guised interest. 

Was  I  mistaken — was  it  only  the  faint  emo- 
tion awakened  by  the  mention  of  a  name  not 
quite  unknown  to  the  public — or  did  the  man 
share  in  my  half -recognition  of  him? 

Whatever  the  feeling  excited  by  the  sound 
of  my  name  or  the  sight  of  my  face,  it  was 

17 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

certainly  not  a  pleasant  one.  The  one  look  I 
ventured  showed  me  the  pale  eyes  shadowed 
by  a  frown,  and  the  gleam  of  white  teeth  as 
they  gnawed  the  lower  lip  under  the  slight  dark 
line  of  the  moustache. 

He  had  glanced  from  me  to  Farnham,  and 
something  in  his  look  told  me  that,  for  a  reason 
to  me  unfathomable,  he  was  displeased  at  see- 
ing us  together. 

At  the  end  of  the  act  we  went  out  for  a 
smoke  and  a  breath  of  fresh  air,  and  as  we  were 
returning  we  met  Wildred  near  the  stairway 
which,  at  the  St.  James's,  leads  to  the  boxes 
on  one  side  of  the  house. 

"  I  was  looking  for  you,"  he  said  to  Farn- 
ham, and  the  tones  of  the  voice  roused  the  same 
vague,  unpleasant  memories  that  the  eyes  had 
stirred. 

"  And  we  were  just  talking  of  you,"  Farn- 
ham annoyed  me  by  retorting.  "  I  should  like 
to  be  the  means  of  making  you  two  known  to 
each  other.  Of  course,  Wildred,  you  have 
heard  all  about  Noel  Stanton.  This  is  actually 
he  in  the  flesh,  and  he  has  been  telling  me  that 

18 


MAN  WITH  THE  PALE  EYES 

he  believes  he  must  have  seen  you  somewhere 
before." 

Mr.  Wildred  tossed  away  a  cigarette,  and 
followed  it  with  his  brilliant  eyes.  He  was 
smiling,  but  his  lips  were  tense,  as  his  gaze 
came  back  to  me. 

"  It  is  my  misfortune,"  he  said,  "  to  be 
obliged  to  assure  you  that  Mr.  Stanton  is  mis- 
taken. I  know  him  as  well  as  one  can  do  with- 
out having  met  him,  through  his  book,  and  a 
world- wide  reputation,  but  beyond  that  I  have 
not  till  now  had  the  pleasure." 

We  looked  into  each  other's  eyes,  and  I  knew 
the  man  lied,  and  that  he  hated  me.  But  the 
mystery  of  his  personality  and  my  share  in  his 
past  was  as  profound  a  mystery  as  before. 

"  Lady  Tressidy  sent  me  out  particularly," 
!he  continued,  "  in  quest  of  you  both,  having 
recognised  Mr.  Stanton  from  his  numerous 
counterfeit  presentments,  and  she  hopes  that 
you  will  come  and  be  introduced  to  her  and  to 
Miss  Cunningham  in  their  box." 

Farnham  looked  at  me  doubtfully,  fearing 
perhaps  that  I  would  refuse.  But,  grudgingly 

19 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

as  the  message  was  evidently  delivered  by 
Wildred,  I  grasped  at  the  opportunity  it 
gave. 

I  should  speak  to  Miss  Cunningham.  I 
should  know  her.  I  might  dare  to  look  at  her, 
and  I  might  touch  her  hand. 

I  have  gone  through  some  queer  experiences 
in  rather  an  eventful  life,  and  have  generally 
managed  to  keep  a  cool  head  in  emergencies. 
But  my  head  was  not  cool  to-night.  Every- 
thing was  dark  to  me,  except  the  one  lovely 
face  raised  smilingly  towards  mine,  as  some 
murmured  words  of  introduction  were  spoken 
in  the  box,  a  little  later,  giving  me  the  right 
henceforth  to  claim  Miss  Cunningham  as  an 
acquaintance. 

I  suppose  I  answered  coherently  when  Lady 
Tressidy  addressed  me,  and  talked  without 
openly  making  an  idiot  of  myself  to  Sir 
Walter.  But  I  remember  nothing  of  the  con- 
versation between  the  second  and  third  acts, 
save  the  few  words  spoken  by  Miss  Cunning- 
ham, and  an  invitation  from  Lady  Tressidy  to 
call  on  one  of  her  "  At  Home  "  days. 

20 


MAN  WITH  THE  PALE  EYES 

After  I  had  gratefully  accepted,  I  turned 
to  the  girl. 

"  Lady  Tressidy  has  said  I  may  come  and 
see  her,"  I  ventured.  "  Will  you — may  I  hope 
to  find  you  with  her  when  I  do? " 

She  looked  up  with  a  sudden,  illumining 
smile  that  answered  me.  "  Come  soon,"  she 
returned.  They  were  her  last  words  for  me 
that  night,  and  they  rang  in  my  head  as  I  left 
her,  dizzy  with  the  memory  of  her  loveliness. 


CHAPTER   III 

A  DEAD   MAN'S   HAND 

I  HAD  taken  rooms  temporarily  at  the  Savoy 
Hotel,  not  knowing  how  long  it  might  be  ere 
I  should  be  moved  in  spirit  to  desert  London; 
and  that  night,  instead  of  looking  in  at  the 
club  as  I  had  meant,  I  went  from  the  theatre 
straight  to  the  hotel. 

There  was  a  fire  burning  in  my  room,  and 
I  drew  up  a  chair  before  it  to  smoke  an  un- 
limited number  of  cigarettes,  and  to  think  of 
Karine  Cunningham. 

I  had  parted  from  Farnham  outside  the 
theatre,  and  had  made  an  appointment  to  meet 
him  next  day  at  dinner,  which  he  was  to  eat 
with  me  at  my  hotel. 

I  felt  no  inclination  for  bed,  nor  was  I  in 
the  least  sleepy,  and  yet,  before  an  hour  had 
passed,  I  must  have  fallen  into  a  doze. 

Suddenly  I  was  awakened  by  the  impression 
of  having  heard  a  sound.  I  looked  round  me, 


A  DEAD   MAN'S    HAND 

half  dazed  still  from  my  dreams.  The  fire 
had  died  down,  and  I  had  left  myself  with  no 
other  light.  Only  a  ruddy  glow  lingered  on 
the  hearth,  and  a  small  clock  on  the  mantel- 
piece just  above  lightly  chimed  out  the  hour 
of  two. 

I  must  have  dreamed  the  sound,  I  told  my- 
self, for  all  was  silent  in  the  sleeping  hotel,  and 
even  the  rattle  of  cabs  outside  was  dulled. 
Still,  the  impression  lingered,  and  I  could 
hardly  persuade  myself  that  I  had  not  heard 
Harvey  Farnham's  voice  calling  my  name,  and 
finishing  with  a  gurgling,  despairing  cry  for 
help,  the  horror  of  which  had  chilled  the  blood 
in  my  veins,  even  in  my  sleep. 

Though  the  fire  was  dead,  the  room  was  still 
warm,  and  I  hardly  knew  why  I  should  be  so 
cold.  Nevertheless,  I  felt  chilled  to  the  bone, 
and  I  was  glad  enough  to  get  into  bed  as 
quickly  as  I  could.  Several  times  I  was  on 
the  point  of  falling  asleep  again,  but,  at  just 
the  critical  point  between  reflectiveness  and 
sinking  into  the  soft  depths  of  slumber,  I 
waked  with  an  almost  convulsive  start,  and  a 

23 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

remembrance  of  the  cry  I  had  heard  or 
dreamed.  I  was  sure  it  must  have  been  the 
latter,  although,  I  told  myself,  there  might  ac- 
tually have  been  some  fracas  in  the  street 
which,  in  my  sleep,  I  had  confused  with  a 
dream  of  Harvey  Farnham. 

Resigning  myself  to  wakefulness  at  last,  I 
began  to  plan  out  the  programme  of  the  next 
week,  and  wonder  how  soon  I  might  avail  my- 
self of  Lady  Tressidy's  invitation  to  call.  She 
was  at  home  on  Sundays  informally,  she  had 
said,  whenever  she  happened  to  be  in  town  dur- 
ing the  winter,  though  Thursday  was  her 
"  day  "  during  the  season. 

Now,  the  Thursday  following  would  be 
Christmas  Day  (this  most  eventful  night  being 
Christmas  Eve  of  last  year),  but  I  did  not  see 
why  I  might  not  look  in  for  a  few  moments  on 
the  ensuing  Sunday.  It  had  only  been  be- 
cause Sir  Walter's  affairs  rendered  a  short  stay 
in  town  necessary,  that  they  were  spending 
Christmas  in  Park  Lane.  They  would  prob- 
ably go  away  in  a  few  days,  and  I  could  not 
afford  to  lose  my  chance;  for,  though  I  had 


A  DEAD   MAN'S   HAND 

admired  many  women  in  my  time,  I  had  never 
yet  seen  one  whom  I  wished  to  make  my  wife, 
until  Karine  Cunningham's  lovely  face  had 
risen — fair  and  sweet  as  a  new  moon  that 
mingled  its  silver  with  the  rose  of  sunset — over 
my  horizon. 

I  had  laughed  at  men  who  gravely  discussed 
the  possibility  of  love  at  first  sight,  but  now  I 
began  to  realise,  half  shamefacedly,  that  it 
was  not  a  thing  to  be  convinced  of  through 
argument,  but  by  thrilling,  magical  experience. 
I  would  have  staked  my  life  that  Karine  Cun- 
ningham's heart  and  mind  were  all  that  her 
face  presaged  of  them,  and  I  resolved  that,  if 
she  were  to  be  won,  I  would  put  my  very  life 
into  the  attempt  to  win  her. 

So  thinking,  and  so  resolving,  I  fell  at  last 
from  waking  dreams  to  sleeping  ones,  hoping 
dimly,  as  I  slipped  over  the  edge  of  realities, 
that  they  might  be  of  Karine  Cunningham. 
But  they  were  not  of  her.  Hardly  had  slumber 
got  its  hold  upon  me,  when  I  saw  myself  by 
the  river,  looking  down  into  a  swiftly  rushing 
tide.  It  seemed  to  be  somewhere  in  the  coun- 

25 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

try,  though  I  had  little  thought  for  my  sur- 
roundings; and  I  was  conscious  that  I  was 
watching  anxiously  for  the  appearance  of  some 
object,  whose  nature  I  did  not  accurately  know. 
It  had  been  daylight  in  my  vision  at  first — a 
cold,  grey,  wintry  daylight — but  suddenly 
night  fell,  with  the  rapidity  that  all  changes 
come  and  go  in  dreamland,  and  the  only  light 
was  a  spot  of  phosphorescent  radiance  that  lay 
just  under  the  surface  of  the  water,  floating 
gradually  down  towards  me.  I  knew,  in  my 
sleep,  that  my  eyes  were  destined  to  behold 
some  sight  of  horror,  yet  I  was  bound,  in  a 
species  of  frozen  fascination,  to  the  spot  where 
I  stood,  forced  to  wait  for  the  oncoming  of  the 
light  and  its  revelation  of  mystery. 

Slowly  it  was  borne  along  with  the  tide,  until, 
having  reached  a  bend  in  the  river  opposite 
the  spot  where  I  was  standing,  it  ceased  to 
move.  I  stooped  down  and  saw  that  the  pale 
light  shone  forth  from  a  great  white  diamond 
on  the  finger  of  a  dead  man's  hand.  The  body 
was  faintly  and  darkly  outlined ;  even  the  float- 
ing arm  might  also  have  been  a  floating  mass 

26 


A   DEAD   MAN'S    HAND 

of  blackened  river  weed;  but  the  hand  was 
white  as  alabaster,  and  as  I  bent  over  it,  star- 
ing down,  one  of  the  fingers  moved  and  beck- 
oned. Then  I  woke  with  a  loud  cry — "  Harvey 
Farnham!"  , 

I  had  gone  through  a  good  many  dangers 
in  my  roving  life,  and  had  passed  through 
many  a  queer  adventure,  believing  that  I  could 
still  boast  unshaken  nerves.  Neither  was  I 
used  to  dreaming,  and  the  hours  of  sleep  were 
usually  for  me  a  long  and  peaceful  interval 
of  complete  unconsciousness. 

Now,  however,  my  forehead  was  damp  with 
a  cold  sweat,  and  I  could  hardly  shake  off  the 
horror  of  the  vision.  It  was  ridiculous,  I  said 
to  myself,  and  yet,  even  with  my  eyes  open,  I 
could  see  the  white  awfulness  of  that  dead 
finger,  as  it  beckoned  me,  shining  palely  in  the 
light  of  the  diamond  ring. 

Exactly  why  I  had  shouted  the  name,  of 
Harvey  Farnham  as  I  waked,  I  could  not  un- 
derstand, unless — with  the  odd  "hang  togeth- 
erativeness  "  of  dreams — it  was  because  I  had 
happened  to  notice  during  the  evening  at  the 

27 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

theatre  that  he  still  wore  on  the  last  finger  of 
his  left  hand  a  very  remarkable  ring,  which  he 
had  also  worn,  and  of  which  he  had  told  me  the 
history,  when  we  had  met  f our  years  previously 
in  America.  I  had  thought  it  perhaps  the  very 
finest  diamond  I  had  ever  seen  in  the  possession 
of  a  private  person,  and  he  had  mentioned  that 
it  had  been  taken  from  the  first  mine  of  which 
he  had  ever  been  the  owner.  He  had  had  it 
for  some  years,  and,  having  grown  stouter 
meanwhile,  the  gold  setting  had  cut  rather 
deeply  into  the  flesh  of  his  finger. 

He  had  laughingly  alluded  to  this  in  Denver, 
saying  that  he  had  promised  a  pretty  girl  that 
she  should  have  the  stone  when  he  should  be 
obliged  to  have  the  ring  cut  off,  and  he  meant 
to  stick  to  it  as  long  as  he  could.  Except  for 
the  fact  of  having  remarked  that  he  still  wore 
the  ring,  and  that  his  finger  looked  as  pinched 
as  a  woman's  waist  beneath  its  clasp,  I  could 
not  in  any  way  have  described  Harvey  Farn- 
ham's  hand.  I  had  doubtless  a  general  im- 
pression of  its  shape  and  contour  in  my  mind, 
but  I  did  not  now  recall  that  there  had  been 

28 


A   DEAD   MAN'S   HAND 

any  recognisable  likeness  between  it  and  the 
dead  hand  my  dream  had  shown  me.  Still, 
though  I  was  able  to  give  myself  a  perfectly 
rational  explanation  of  the  dream,  and  even 
of  the  impression  of  Farnham's  voice  earlier 
in  the  night,  I  could  not  shake  off  a  curious 
and  unpleasant  sensation  of  there  being  some 
duty  connected  with  the  vision  which  I  had  left 
unperf ormed,  or  which  was  yet  to  be  exacted 
of  me  in  the  future, 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   HOUSE   BY  THE  LOCK 

I  AEOSE  on  Christmas  morning  with  the  same 
feeling.  There  was  absolutely  nothing  ar- 
ranged for  me  to  do  that  day,  as  I  had  in- 
formed no  one  I  knew  of  my  presence  in 
London,  meaning  to  be  for  the  present  some- 
what of  a  free-lance.  I  had  wished  not  to  be 
obliged  to  account  to  anyone  as  to  my  goings 
and  comings.  I  had  not  wanted  any  invitations 
to  family  festivities  on  Christmas  Day  to 
"  keep  me  from  being  lonely."  My  desire  had 
been  to  go  exactly  where  the  whim  of  the  mo- 
ment might  lead  me,  and  without  a  moment's 
hesitation  I  had  declined  the  invitation  to 
*'  Christmas  dinner  "  which  poor  Farnham  had 
dragged  for  me  from  his  friend,  Carson  Wil- 
dred.  It  might  amuse  me,  Farnham  had 
thought,  as  Wildred's  house  up  the  river  was 
a  queer  old  place,  interesting  to  anyone  who 
cared  for  that  sort  of  thing,  and  they  two  were 

30 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

dining  quite  alone.  Wildred  and  he  had  had 
some  final  arrangements  to  settle  up,  and  as 
Christmas  was  such  an  "  off  day,"  so  far  as 
amusements  were  concerned,  it  had  heen  Wil- 
dred's  idea  that  they  should  utilise  it  in  this 
manner.  The  other  man  took  Farnham's  hint, 
and  civilly  gave  the  required  invitation,  of 
course,  but  even  had  it  been  offered  with  en- 
thusiasm I  should  not  have  been  tempted  to 
accept. 

Now,  however,  I  felt  a  curious  inclination 
to  call  at  the  House  by  the  Lock,  as  it  was 
named.  I  would  not  dine  there,  I  told  myself, 
but  there  must  be  an  inn  in  the  neighbourhood, 
where  I  could  obtain  some  slight  Christmas 
cheer,  if  I  chose  to  embark  upon  the  rather  mild 
adventure  of  going  up  the  river  on  this  wintry 
holiday. 

It  was  years  since  I  had  been  in  England, 
and  the  thought  of  a  solitary  stroll  by  the 
Thames  along  a  country  towing-path  was  not 
so  dismal  as  it  might  have  been  to  those  who 
had  not  tramped  with  the  equanimity  of  cus- 
tom through  African  jungles. 

31 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

Once  the  idea  had  taken  root  in  my  mind,  I 
was  impatient  to  carry  it  out.  I  would  go,  I 
decided,  almost  immediately,  lunching  at  the 
nearest  decent  inn  to  Purley  Lock,  and  turn- 
ing up  at  Wildred's  house  at  four  or  five  in  the 
afternoon.  I  would  spend  an  hour  there,  per- 
haps, and  return  to  town  in  time  for  dinner. 

I  had  not  got  up  particularly  early,  had 
breakfasted  late,  and  by  the  time  I  was  in- 
clined to  start  it  was  past  one  o'clock.  I  had 
over  an  hour's  journey  to  Great  Mario w,  the 
nearest  railway  station,  with  a  drive  of  some 
four  miles  to  follow,  before  I  could  reach  the 
Chimes  Inn,  which  I  was  told  was  the  only 
one  within  some  distance  of  Purley  Lock. 

It  was  a  quaint  old  hostelry  I  found,  and  an 
agreeable  landlord,  who  had  hardly  expected 
guests  at  so  out-of-the-way  a  place  on  Christ- 
mas Day,  and  having  finished  his  own  midday 
repast,  was  very  ready  for  a  gossip  with 
me. 

Oh,  yes,  he  said,  he  knew  the  House  by  the 
Lock,  quite  well.  It  was  in  reality  situated 
at  some  little  distance  from  the  Lock  itself, 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

quite  a  quarter-of-a-mile,  but  then  it  was  the 
nearest  house,  and  perhaps  that  was  the  rea- 
son it  had  got  its  name.  It  was  a  very  old 
place,  but  Mr.  Wildred,  since  taking  it  about 
two  years  before,  had  had  a  great  many  alter- 
ations and  improvements  made  both  outside 
and  in.  He  was  something  of  an  architect 
himself,  it  seemed — this  rich  Mr.  Wildred;  at 
all  events,  it  was  believed  that  he  had  made 
the  designs  for  the  alterations,  and  having  a 
great  fad  that  way,  had  even  helped  the  chaps 
he  had  had  down  from  London  to  do  the  in- 
door work  and  decorating.  There  had  only 
been  two  or  three  men,  so  that  progress  had 
been  slow,  and  everyone  had  wondered  that 
such  a  rich  man  as  Mr.  Wildred  was  reported 
to  be  should  have  had  things  done  in  so  niggling 
a  manner.  But,  since  then,  they  had  concluded 
that  he  must  have  known  what  he  was  about, 
for  everyone  who  went  there  came  away  with 
great  reports  of  the  decorations. 

I  was  not  particularly  interested  in  these 
details  that  my  landlord  had  to  tell  me. 

Though,  after  all,  there  was  an  indefinable 
83 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

curiosity  in  my  mind  regarding  everything  that 
concerned  Carson  Wildred. 

I  got  away  from  the  man's  animated  gossip 
in  the  course  of  half-an-hour  or  so.  I  had  a 
walk  of  a  mile  to  take,  having  dismissed  my; 
fly,  and  meaning,  after  I  had  paid  my  rather 
aimless  visit,  to  tramp  all  the  way  back  to  Mar- 
low  again.  As  I  started,  a  clock  on  the  inn 
table  struck  four. 

There  was  a  long  streak  of  gold  along  the 
horizon  of  the  otherwise  dull  grey  sky,  and  a 
rising  wind  moaned  drearily  among  the  bare 
lower  branches  of  the  trees. 

The  scene  looked  indescribably  desolate,  and 
yet  there  was  a  certain  beauty  in  it,  too.  I  had 
been  told  exactly  how  to  reach  the  House  by: 
the  Lock,  and  when,  after  passing  the  some- 
what weedy-looking  lock,  I  began  skirting 
along  a  species  of  backwater,  and  came  in  sight 
of  a  long,  low-browed  house  close  to  the  river, 
I  knew  I  had  reached  my  journey's  end. 

The  place  had  the  appearance  of  being  only 
a  restored  remnant  of  an  ancient  abbey  fallen 
into  decay. 

34 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

Indeed,  at  one  end  of  the  house  a  ruined  wall 
jutted  out,  with  a  row  of  stone  window-frames, 
half  filled  in  with  sombre  trails  of  ivy;  then  in 
the  middle  came  the  habitable  part  of  the  old 
house,  with  an  imposing  front  door,  which 
might  have  belonged  to  some  big  Gothic 
Church;  magnificent  windows,  that  reminded 
me  of  a  certain  dear  old  college  at  Oxford, 
well-known  in  younger  days;  and  beyond,  to 
the  left,  was  the  wing  evidently  added  by  Wil- 
dred.  It  was  in  wretched  taste,  I  thought,  with 
its  pretentiousness  and  its  huge  round  tower 
at  the  end,  utterly  out  of  keeping  with  the  rest. 
Then,  as  I  criticised,  my  eye  was  caught  by  a 
puff  of  fiery  smoke  that  suddenly  rose  above 
the  battlements  of  the  hideous  tall  tower. 

I  could  not  quite  understand  this  phenome- 
non, for  the  tower,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  had 
been  merely  built  with  the  mistaken  idea  of 
being  ornamental.  Though  new,  it  was  in- 
tended to  present  the  effect  of  being  ruinous, 
having  little  dark  chinks  in  lieu  of  windows. 

Still,  the  smoke  was  there,  belching  out 
sparks  not  only  from  the  apex  of  the  tower, 

35 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

but  stealing  in  a  belated  puff  or  two  from  the 
chinks  in  the  wall  nearest  the  top. 

I  thought  of  fire,  and  quickened  my  steps, 
meaning  to  mention  to  the  servant  who  should 
open  the  door  what  I  had  seen.  The  lawn 
stretched  down  to  the  river,  which  was  here,  as 
I  said,  a  mere  backwater,  and  having  entered 
through  a  gate  set  in  the  side  of  a  big  brick 
wall,  I  walked  briskly  up  the  short  gravelled 
path  that  led  to  the  house. 

At  least  Wildred  had  had  the  sense  to  let 
this  door  alone,  with  its  carvings  of  oak,  and  its 
big  ornamental  hinges  and  knocker.  The  only 
modern  innovation  was  an  electric  bell,  which 
I  touched,  and  then,  grasping  the  huge 
knocker,  I  rapped  out  an  additional  summons, 
which  echoed  drearily,  as  though  through  an 
empty  house. 

So  near  was  I  to  the  river,  while  I  stood 
waiting  on  the  door-stone  to  be  admitted,  that 
I  could  hear  the  soft  lapping  of  the  water 
against  the  shore.  Darkness  had  fallen  now, 
and  an  ugly  recollection  of  my  dream  suddenly 
sprang  up  in  my  brain.  Just  so,  I  remembered, 

36 


had  I  heard  the  water  whispering,  as  in  that 
hateful  vision  I  had  bent  over  to  see  the  dead 
man's  beckoning  hand. 

It  was  long  before  my  ring  and  knock  were 
answered,  so  long  that  I  had  my  finger  on  the 
bell  again.  But  at  that  moment  I  heard  foot- 
steps walking  somewhat  uncertainly  along  an 
uncarpeted  floor  within.  Still  the  door  re- 
mained closed;  but  at  a  long  narrow  window, 
which  was  the  duplicate  of  another  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  door,  I  saw  for  an  instant 
that  a  face  was  pressed  against  the  lattice- 
work of  the  glass. 

"  What  ill-trained  servants  this  man  keeps," 
was  my  thought;  and  then,  somewhat  im- 
patiently, I  rang  again. 

The  door  opened  almost  immediately  into 
a  dimly-lighted  hall,  when  a  respectable,  mid- 
dle-aged man,  out  of  livery,  evidently  a  butler, 
stood  revealed.  Yet  I  could  have  sworn  that 
the  face  at  the  window,  seen  but  a  second  ago, 
had  been  that  of  a  woman,  young,  pallid,  and 
darkly  bright  of  eye! 


CHAPTER   V 

WAS  IT  A   MYSTERY? 

"  I  SHOULD  like  to  see  Mr.  Wildred  and  Mr. 
Farnham,"  I  said,  not  feeling  it  necessary  to 
ask  if  they  were  at  home.  I  knew  that  they  had 
definitely  arranged  to  he  so. 

I  glanced  round  me  carelessly  as  I  spoke. 
The  hall  was  a  huge  one,  dim  in  the  corners, 
with  a  fine  stairway  that  ran  down  in  the  centre, 
and  was  lighted  by  a  great  branching  candela- 
brum held  up  by  a  bronze  figure  on  either  side. 

Doors,  hung  with  porti&res  of  tapestry, 
opened  here  and  there  along  the  hall,  and  in  a 
fireplace  at  one  side  slow  flames  crept  along  a 
freshly-heaped  pile  of  logs. 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir,"  said  the  servant,  respect- 
fully, "  but  both  the  gentlemen  have  gone  out 
for  the  day." 

He  did  not  look  me  in  the  face  as  he  de- 
livered this  piece  of  information,  but  allowed 
his  narrow  eyes  to  drop  away  shiftily. 

38 


WAS    IT   A   MYSTERY? 

"  Oh,  I  am  surprised  at  that,"  I  returned, 
"  for  I  have  come  by  invitation." 

I  hardly  know  by  what  impulse  I  mentioned 
this,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  invitation  could 
hardly  be  supposed  to  stand,  as  I  had  last  night 
refused  it.  Still,  it  seemed  to  me  extremely 
improbable  that  the  two  men  would  have 
changed  their  minds  about  the  day,  after  mid- 
night, when  I  had  parted  from  them.  They 
had  mentioned  refusing  one  or  two  invitations, 
and  there  was  really  so  little  to  do  by  way  of 
amusement  out  of  one's  own  house,  or  some- 
body else's,  on  Christmas  Day.  Somehow,  too, 
I  felt  impressed  that  the  man  was  lying.  He 
had  perhaps  been  told  to  say  that  his  master 
and  guest  were  away  in  case  of  an  intrusion, 
which  they  might  have  had  reason  to  fear;  but 
this  could  hardly  stand  with  me. 

The  fellow's  smug  face  changed  instantly. 

"  Oh,  I  see,  sir,  you  are  the  gentleman  Mr. 
Wildred  was  expecting.  He — they — it  is  pos- 
sible they  will  be  in  quite  shortly.  Perhaps 
you  will  walk  into  the  room." 

".The  room,"  and  with  such  a  queer  little 
39 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

emphasis  on  the  former  word,  sounded  rather 
odd.  It  was  but  a  trifling  peculiarity  of  ex- 
pression, however,  and  I  did  not  think  much 
of  it  as  I  followed  the  butler  along  the  hall, 
passing  through  a  door,  before  which  he  swept 
the  curtain  aside  with  a  flourish,  and  so  into 
a  passage  which  evidently  led  towards  the  new 
wing.  We  went  on  for  some  distance,  and 
presently  arrived  at  a  closed  door,  which  the 
butler  threw  open  for  me.  "  It  is  here  that  my 
master  requested  you  should  wait,  sir,"  he  said. 
I  walked  in,  and  he  left  me,  shutting  the 
door.  It  then  struck  me  that  I  had  neither 
given  him  my  name  nor  mentioned  the  mass 
of  smoke  and  sparks  which  I  had  seen  vomited 
from  the  tower.  I  sprang  to  the  door  again, 
meaning  to  call  after  the  man  a  word  of  warn- 
ing in  regard  to  the  fire,  but  he  was  already 
out  of  sight.  He  could  not  have  gone  back 
the  way  that  he  had  come,  or  I  should  certainly 
have  seen  him  walking  down  the  dimly-lighted 
passage,  there  being  no  door  save  that  at  the 
extreme  end,  which  he  would  not  yet  have  had 
time  to  reach.  I  did  not  see  how  he  could  have 

40 


WAS   IT   A  MYSTERY? 

disappeared  so  suddenly,  but  returning  whence 
I  had  come,  I  looked  about  in  vain  for  a  bell. 

I  was  sure  now  that  this  room  must  be  situ- 
ated in  that  part  of  the  new  wing  which  ad- 
joined the  tower.  In  glancing  at  the  house 
from  outside,  I  had  fancied  that  the  square, 
squat  wall  must  be  that  of  a  studio,  as  there 
were  no  windows,  but  a  high,  domed  skylight 
on  top.  Now  I  saw  that  though  the  outer 
building  was  square,  the  room  within  was  octa- 
gon in  shape.  It  was,  perhaps,  a  studio,  as 
I  had  fancied,  but  there  was  something  of  the 
free-and-easy  negligence  of  an  Oriental  smok- 
ing-room about  it. 

The  walls  were  hung  with  embroidered 
Indian  materials,  and  a  low  divan  ran  down 
part  way.  Between  the  hangings  were  panels 
of  sandal-wood,  ornamented  with  bits  of  mir- 
ror in  the  Burmese  fashion,  and  half  hidden 
with  curious  foreign  weapons,  daggers,  swords, 
and  spears,  and  even  a  Zulu  assegai  or  two. 
On  the  floor  stood  a  hookah,  and  on  a  small 
inlaid  table  were  a  couple  of  curious  little  ob- 
jects which  I  knew  to  be  opium  pipes.  In  one 

41 


corner,  as  though  it  had  been  pushed  aside, 
stood  an  easel  with  a  canvas  upon  it,  which  was 
half  covered  with  a  piece  of  drapery.  The  sky- 
light was  partly  concealed  with  red  silk  blinds, 
drawn  across  the  staring  glass,  and  from  the 
centre  of  the  dome  was  suspended  a  large 
jewelled  lamp.  It  was  from  this  that  all  the 
light  in  the  studio  proceeded  at  present,  and 
though  there  was  no  fireplace,  the  room  was 
warm — indeed,  insufferably  hot.  This  fact, 
taken  together  with  the  studio's  proximity  to 
the  tower,  made  me  feel  more  certain  than  be- 
fore that  some  flue  in  this  modern  portion  of 
the  house  had  caught  fire.  I  searched  the 
panels  for  a  bell,  but  found  none,  and  at  last 
lifted  several  of  the  curtains  that  draped  the 
larger  part  of  the  octagonal  walls.  Under  the 
first  two  that  I  raised  only  a  blank  space  of 
dark  wood  was  visible,  but  under  the  third  I 
was  surprised  to  find  a  small,  secretive-looking 
door. 

There  was  no  knob  or  ring  by  way  of  handle, 
but  close  to  the  edge,  and  about  half-way 
between  top  and  bottom,  I  distinguished  a 

42 


WAS   IT   A   MYSTERY? 

diminutive  keyhole,  outlined  with  shining 
metal.  I  let  the  curtain  drop  again,  though 
lingeringly.  It  could  be  only  a  cupboard,  or 
a  particularly  secure  wine  cellar,  perhaps,  be- 
hind this  dwarfish  door,  yet  had  I  discovered  it 
in  a  house  not  English,  but  of  a  country  less 
conventionally  civilised  than  our  own,  I  should 
have  told  myself  that  I  had  chanced  upon  the 
clue  to  a  secret. 

There  was  still  a  fourth  curtained  space  (the 
remaining  half  of  the  octagons  being  of  the 
sandal- wood),  and  this,  as  it  happened,  was 
directly  behind  the  draped  easel. 

I  moved  towards  it,  not  intending  to  pry 
into  Mr.  Wildred's  domestic  economies,  but 
still  bent  on  unearthing  an  electric  bell  if  I 
could  do  so,  when  my  eyes  fell  upon  the  par- 
tially-covered picture. 

It  was  but  a  pinky-white,  uncovered  shoulder 
that  I  could  see,  with  a  glimpse  of  red-gold 
hair  at  such  a  distance  above  as  to  suggest  a 
massive  knot  at  the  back  of  a  woman's  head, 
seen  in  profile.  There  was  a  fraction  of  fluffy 
tulle  sleeve  as  well,  revealing  the  outline  of  a 

43 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

rounded,  girlish  arm,  and  though  the  face  was 
hidden  by  the  drapery,  I  was  as  sure  as  if  I 
had  seen  it,  that  should  I  push  aside  the  curtain 
my  eyes  would  fall  upon  the  counterfeit  pre- 
sentment of  Karine  Cunningham. 

With  half-extended  hand  I  paused.  The 
painting  was  so  far  covered,  and  it  was  in  an- 
other man's  house.  Had  I  a  right  to  assure 
myself  whether  my  supposition  were  correct? 
As  I  hesitated  my  ears  were  startled  by  what 
I  can  only  describe  as  the  beginning  of  a  sound. 

It  was  low  and  inarticulate,  yet  it  seemed  to 
me  that  it  was  uttered  by  human  lips.  It  com- 
menced with  a  tremulous,  vibrating  noise,  such 
as  might  have  been  made  by  a  man  groaning 
with  closed  mouth  and  between  set  teeth. 

I  started,  and  looked  over  my  shoulder,  so 
close  did  it  seem,  that  I  could  almost  fancy  it 
had  proceeded  from  a  corner  of  the  room  be- 
hind me.  Still  it  went  on,  monotonously,  and 
then  suddenly  rose  with  ever-increasing  volume 
to  a  yell  of  utmost  agony. 

Never  had  I  heard  such  a  shriek,  not  even 
in  battle,  when  men  were  stabbed  or  shot,  or 

44 


WAS    IT   A   MYSTERY? 

blown  to  pieces.  So  horrible,  so  long-drawn 
was  it,  that  I  found  myself  strangely  awe- 
struck and  appalled. 

"Great  heaven!"  I  exclaimed  aloud,  sure 
now  that  close  at  hand  fire  must  be  raging,  and 
have  claimed  some  inmate  of  the  house  as  its 
victim. 

Though  I  knew  not  where  to  find  the  servant 
who  had  admitted  me,  or  any  other  person,  I 
flung  open  the  door  through  which  I  had  come, 
and  ran  down  the  passage  leading  towards  the 
main  part  of  the  house.  In  through  the  second 
and  wider  one  I  went,  opening  a  door  here  and 
there,  but  finding  only  darkness  and  empti- 
ness beyond. 

I  reached  the  large  entrance  hall  at  last,  and 
shouted  loudly — "  Here,  you!  John,  James!  " 
— not  knowing  in  the  absence  of  the  master 
and  his  guest  whom  to  call  upon. 

No  one  answered,  and  after  the  horror  of 
the  unearthly  cry  that  I  had  heard,  and  now 
the  sound  of  my  own  lusty  voice,  the  silence 
that  fell  seemed  curiously  brooding  and 
ominous. 

45 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

I  shouted  a  second  time,  and  was  then  re- 
warded by  the  sight  of  the  respectable-looking 
butler.  His  face  appeared — or  I  imagined  it 
— even  more  smug  than  before  in  its  expres- 
sion, and  there  was  something  suggestive  of 
injured  dignity  as  well. 

"  Did  you  call,  sir? "  he  inquired  with  an 
irritating  meekness. 

"  I  did,  indeed,"  I  returned  rather  sharply. 
"I've  been  looking  everywhere  for  a  bell,  but 
couldn't  find  one.  I  have  every  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  this  house  is  on  fire,  somewhere  in  the 
left  wing,  near  the  room  into  which  you  took 
me,  and  it  is  certain  that  someone  has  got 
caught  in  the  flames.  For  heaven's  sake,  show 
me  the  entrance  to  the  tower,  and  come  with 
me  to  do  what  can  be  done! " 

The  smug  look  was  gone,  chased  away  by 
one  of  blank  amazement,  which  did  not,  how- 
ever, seem  the  sort  of  horrified  surprise  that 
might  have  been  expected  to  follow  on  my; 
startling  announcement. 

"  I'm  sure  you  must  be  entirely  mistaken, 
sir,"  he  said.  "  There  is  no  fire,  I'm  quite 

46 


WAS    IT   A   MYSTERY? 

certain  of  that.  There — there  may  have  been 
a  cry,  for  as  it  happens  there's  just  been  an 
accident — in  the  kitchen." 

"  An  accident  in  the  kitchen?  "  I  echoed,  in- 
credulously. 

'  Yes,  sir.  You  see,  it  was  this  way,  sir  " 
(the  fellow  stammered  and  breathed  hard  be- 
tween his  words,  as  though  he  were  anxious  to 
gain  time  for  himself,  I  thought) :  "  The  cook 
— an  awkward  woman — set  some  methylated 
spirit  on  fire,  and  upset  the  stuff  over  her  foot. 
She — I'm  afraid  she  did  give  a  scream,  sir. 
You  know  what  women  are  at  such  times.  But 
it's  all  right  now.  The  flames  were  put  out 
on  the  instant,  sir,  and  one  of  the  other  serv- 
ants is  helping  cook  bind  up  her  foot.  Very 
kind  of  you  to  take  this  trouble  and  be  anxious, 
sir,  I'm  sure." 

He  was  glib  enough  now,  but  his  shifty  eyes 
were  moving  about,  as  though  looking  with  a 
certain  apprehension  for  someone  to  arrive. 

"  I  saw  smoke  and  sparks  coming  out  of  the 
tower  as  I  came  up  to  the  door,"  I  said,  doubt- 
ful about  accepting  this  halting  explanation. 

47 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

The  fellow  flushed  to  the  roots  of  his  black 
oiled  hair  as  I  watched  him. 

"  Did  you  see  that,  sir? "  he  exclaimed,  in- 
genuously. "  It's  master's  laboratory  up  there, 
though  you'd  never  think  it  from  the  outside, 
would  you?  Something's  gone  wrong  with  one 
of  the — the  apparatuses,  sir — I  don't  know  the 
name  for  it — and  the  fact  is  I  did  suppose  you 
were  the  gentleman  who  had  come  to  examine 
into  the  trouble.  He  was  to  have  arrived  to- 
day, and  so  I  thought But  I  see,  sir,  as 

you  refer  to  the  sparks,  and  seem  not  to  under- 
stand what  makes  them,  I  must  have  been 
mistaken." 

"  Yes,  you  were  mistaken/'  I  returned,  only 
half  satisfied,  yet  not  caring  to  allow  myself 
morbidly  to  scent  a  mystery  where  mystery 
there  was  none. 

'  Would  you  step  in  here,  sir,  and  wait  for 
my  master?  "  he  went  on  hastily,  drawing  aside 
the  portiere  from  a  door  close  by.  "  I  should- 
n't have  given  you  the  bother  of  going  so  far 
before,  only  I  thought  you'd  come  on  business 
which  would  take  you  to  that  part  of  the  house. 

48 


WAS   IT   A  MYSTERY? 

This  is  the  drawing-room,  sir,  if  you'll  be 
pleased  to  walk  in,  and  I'll  fetch  you  your  hat 
and  stick  from  the  studio." 

I  had  no  objections  to  make  to  this  suggested 
course,  though  I  was  conscious  of  a  vague  de- 
sire to  return  to  the  octagon  room. 

The  butler  noiselessly  preceded  me,  turning 
up  the  lights,  which  had  been  dim,  and  touch- 
ing a  match  to  four  or  five  candles  on  the  man- 
telpiece. I  saw  then  that  I  was  in  a  large, 
old-fashioned  drawing-room.,  wjth  plenty  of 
ancient  blue  and  white  china,  Sneraton  furni- 
ture, and  a  fireplace  suggesting  a  design  of 
Adams'.  * 

I  sat  down  beside  it  to  finish  my  time  of 
waiting,  not  quite  sure  whether  to  be  crest- 
fallen over  having  made  an  unnecessary  sen- 
sation, or  to  be  distrustful  of  the  butler,  with 
his  shifty  face.  I  scarcely  heard  his  decorous 
footsteps,  as  he  moved  away  over  the  polished 
oak  floor  of  the  great  hall,  but  he  had  not  been 
gone  more  than  a  moment  or  two,  when  the 
sound  of  voices  whispering  together  reached 
my  ears. 

49 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

I  had  always  particularly  sensitive  ones,  and 
no  doubt  my  somewhat  precarious,  wandering 
life  had  done  much  to  sharpen  them.  At  all 
events,  I  was  ahle  to  hear  that  which  did  not 
reach  the  ears  of  other  men  less  favoured  in 
this  regard,  and  now  I  caught  a  word  or  two 
spoken  outside  in  the  hall. 

"  In  the  drawing-room  .  .  .  'tisn't  he, 
after  all  ...  confound  your  stupidity! 
.  .  .  fool  you  are.  .  .  Well,  it  can't  be 
helped  now  .  .  .  story  will  have  to 
do." 

An  instant  later  Mr.  Carson  Wildred  had 
appeared  at  the  door.  I  got  up  as  he  showed 
himself,  and  advanced  towards  him,  keenly 
watching  his  face.  It  had  been  alert  at  first, 
as  though  he  were  anxious  to  ascertain  who 
the  visitor  could  be;  then,  as  he  identified  me, 
for  the  fraction  of  a  second  a  fire  of  fierce 
anger  blazed  in  his  pale  eyes.  Before  I  could 
more  than  convince  myself  that  it  had  actually 
been  there,  however,  it  was  gone.  He  came 
towards  me,  smiling  cordially,  and  holding  out 
his  hand. 

50 


WAS   IT   A   MYSTERY? 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Stanton? "  he  said. 
"  This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure,  after  your 
refusal  of  our  invitation  last  night,  but  none 
the  less  delightful.  I  suppose  I'm  rather  late 
in  wishing  you  a  merry  Christmas?  But  better 
late  than  never,  you  know!  " 

"  Thank  you,"  I  returned,  grudging  the 
necessity  for  taking  the  man's  hand.  It 
was  cold  as  ice,  and  he  remarked  upon  it, 
laughing. 

"  Rather  a  chilly  welcome  that,"  he  ex- 
claimed; "  but  I've  just  come  in  from  a  walk, 
and  we've  very  seasonable  weather,  as  they  call 
it,  to-day.  My  butler — the  best  and  most  me- 
thodical of  chaps,  by  the  way — is  in  a  fright- 
ful state  because  you  have  been  annoyed,  it 
seems,  while  you  have  been  waiting  for  me. 
So  sorry  to  have  kept  you.  Accident  in  the 
kitchen,  it  seems.  Hope  it  won't  interfere  with 
our  getting  a  decent  dinner  to-night,  for  of 
course  you'll  stay? " 

I  fabricated  an  engagement  for  the  evening 
on  the  spot,  and  explained  how  I  had  felt  like 
spending  an  afternoon  in  the  country,  and 

51 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

seeing  what  the  river  looked  like  at  Christmas 
time. 

"I've  only  a  few  minutes  to  stay,  really," 
I  said,  "  for  I've  set  my  heart  on  walking  back 
to  Marlow.  Farnham  knows  I'm  here,  I 
suppose? " 

"  Oh,  that's  the  pity  of  it,"  he  ejaculated. 
"  Farnham's  away,  after  all.  You  know  what 
an  erratic  fellow  he  is?  Well,  he  got  tired  of 
business,  and  not  dreaming  you  would  come, 
ran  into  town  to  dine  with  some  people  who 
had  asked  him  the  other  day.  The  fact  is,  I 
fancy  there's  a  fair  lady  in  the  case.  But  he 
did  say  something  about  looking  you  up  at  the 
Savoy,  if  he  had  time,  and  as  trains  are  bad 
to-day,  he  meant  to  spend  the  night  in  town." 

As  Wildred  went  volubly  on  with  his  apolo- 
gies and  explanations,  I  did  not  take  my  eyes 
from  his  face.  It  was  as  open  and  candid  in 
expression  as  a  face  of  his  peculiar  type  could 
be,  and  yet,  though  there  was  no  earthly  reason 
why  I  should  disbelieve  anything  he  had  said, 
there  was  a  vague  doubt  in  my  mind  as  uncom- 
fortable to  bear  as  a  haunting  sense  of  guilt. 

52 


CHAPTER   VI 

AN   ADVENTURE   IN   THE   PARK 

"  FARNHAM  promised,"  I  said,  "  to  dine 
with  me  to-morrow  night,  you  know.  It  is  very 
much  to  be  regretted  that  you  have  an  engage- 
ment, but  I  hope  that  you  will  remind  him  of 
his  to  me." 

"  I  will  do  so,  certainly,"  Wildred  returned. 
"  Not  that  any  reminder  could  be  needed,  for 
Farnham  is  one  of  your  most  enthusiastic  ad- 
mirers, I  should  say." 

We  were  vastly  polite  to  each  other  during 
what  remained  of  the  conversation,  far  more 
ceremoniously  so  than  we  should  have  been 
likely  to  be  had  there  been  any  solid  liking  on 
either  side  under  the  thin  veneer  of  friendli- 
ness. 

In  a  few  moments  I  had  got  away,  despite 
Wildred's  repeated  request  that  I  should  re- 
main and  share  his  lonely  Christmas  dinner 
with  him.  Somehow,  a  mouthful  of  food 

53 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

taken  in  that  house  would  have  choked  me,  and 
I  left  with  the  echo  of  the  awful  cry  I  had 
heard  still  seemingly  ringing  in  my  ears. 

I  half  expected  that  Farnham  might  look 
in  upon  me,  as  Wildred  had  suggested,  and 
therefore  spent  what  remained  of  the  evening 
after  my  return  to  town  at  the  hotel.  But  he 
did  not  come,  and  shortly  after  midnight  I 
threw  down  the  book  in  which  I  had  been  able 
to  retain  no  great  interest,  and  went  to  bed. 

It  was  ridiculously  early  when  I  woke,  and 
my  first  conscious  thought  was  a  joyous  one, 
that  now  only  one  day  intervened  between  me 
and  the  call  I  promised  myself  to  make  at 
Lady  Tressidy's. 

I  had  endeavoured  to  explain  to  my  own 
satisfaction  the  presence  of  a  portrait  which  I 
believed  to  represent  Miss  Cunningham  at  the 
House  by  the  Lock.  There  were  many  ways 
in  which  it  might  have  found  a  place  there, 
without  betokening  any  great  intimacy  be- 
tween the  original  of  the  picture  and  Carson 
Wildred.  It  might  have  been  an  Academy 
success  which  he  had  purchased;  it  might  be 

54 


ADVENTURE   IN   THE   PARK 

even  that  the  resemblance  was  merely  one  of 
chance. 

Still,  try  as  I  might  to  settle  the  doubts 
which,  no  matter  how  often  discarded,  in- 
variably came  crowding  back  to  my  brain,  I 
was  already  far  too  deeply  plunged  into  love 
to  remember  with  calmness  my  glimpse  of  the 
canvas  under  the  drapery. 

Of  course  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to 
refer  to  it  in  talking  with  Lady  Tressidy  or 
Miss  Cunningham,  if  I  were  lucky  enough  to 
see  them  on  Sunday;  but  in  some  indirect  way 
I  might  be  able  to  induce  one  of  them  to  men- 
tion it.  I  could  refer  to  my  visit  to  the  House 
by  the  Lock  perhaps,  touching  lightly  upon 
my  impression  of  the  striking  decorations  in 
the  studio,  or  smoking-room,  and  then,  if  there 
were  nothing  to  conceal,  and  Miss  Cunning- 
ham were  aware  that  Mr.  Wildred  possessed 
her  portrait,  it  would  be  very  natural  that  a 
word  or  two  in  regard  to  it  might  pass  her 
lips. 

As  I  was  on  my  way  down  to  breakfast  a 
little  after  ten,  I  met  one  of  the  bell  boys  with 

55 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

a  telegram,  which  he  had  been  on  the  way  to 
bring  to  my  door. 

It  was  a  long  and  elaborate  message,  and 
glancing  down  to  the  end  of  the  seven  or  eight 
lines  I  read  Farnham's  name.  I  then  went 
back  to  the  beginning  again. 

"  So  sorry  not  to  have  seen  you  yesterday," 
the  words  ran.  "  Wildred  has  come  to  town, 
bringing  my  luggage,  on  receipt  of  a  wire 
from  me  saying  I  have  just  heard  of  impor- 
tant financial  business  calling  me  to  America 
at  once.  Has  told  me  of  your  visit.  Very 
vexed  can't  keep  engagement  with  you  to- 
night, and  that  this  must  after  all  be  farewell, 
as  am  leaving  immediately  for  Southampton 
by  boat  train.  Good-bye  and  good  luck  to  you. 
Will  write  you  soon  from  other  side,  address- 
ing Savoy  Hotel.  Yours,  HAEVEY  FABN- 


HAM." 


I  cannot  say  I  felt  any  very  deep  disap- 
pointment at  the  thought  that  I  should  not  see 
my  friend  from  the  States  again.  I  liked  him, 
and  had  found  him  a  pleasant  companion,  but 
had  it  not  been  for  the  strange  and  unpleasant 

56 


ADVENTURE   IN   THE   PARK 

dream  which  had  somehow  gifted  him  with  an 
artificial  importance  in  my  mind,  I  should  have 
cherished  few  regrets  at  his  sudden  flitting. 
As  it  was,  I  had  a  curious  sense  of  uneasiness, 
and  an  inexplicable  impression  that  in  some 
undefined  way  I  had  done  him  an  injustice,  or 
been  careless  of  his  interests,  though  in  reality 
I  was  very  sure  I  had  done  nothing  of  the 
kind. 

Still,  I  could  not  shake  off  the  feeling,  and 
with  an  odd  restlessness  upon  me  I  started 
almost  immediately  after  breakfast  for  a  long 
walk. 

For  some  time  I  went  on  without  paying 
very  much  attention  to  the  direction  I  had 
taken,  but  mechanically  I  had  passed  along 
the  Embankment,  so  on  through  crowded  Pic- 
cadilly, and  thus  to  the  Park. 

The  dreary  stretch  of  sodden  grass,  with 
stripped  trees,  and  here  and  there  a  patch  of 
dingy  London  snow,  did  not  look  particularly 
inviting,  buf  I  went  in,  wondering  a  little  at 
my  own  aimlessness  of  mood. 

I  had  intended  to  do  a  good  deal  of  writing 
57 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

during  the  morning  and  early  afternoon,  but 
I  knew  that,  even  had  I  stayed  at  home,  it 
would  have  been  impossible  for  me  to  put  pen 
to  paper. 

The  ubiquitous  cyclist  was  to  be  seen  in 
great  numbers  and  to  the  best  advantage.  At 
this  time  of  year  the  "  smart  set "  was  for  the 
most  part  conspicuous  by  its  absence,  but  there 
were  some  pretty  and  neatly  costumed  young 
women,  and  as  I  pursued  my  way  slowly,  idly 
looking  at  those  who  passed,  there  was  a  flash 
of  red-gold  hair  as  a  slender  figure  in  dark 
grey  cloth  shot  by,  and  I  knew,  with  a  quick- 
ening of  my  heart  throbs,  that  I  had  seen  Miss 
Cunningham. 

She  was  going  very  well,  and  I  was  admir- 
ing the  pretty  back  with  its  girlish  shoulders 
and  slim  tapering  waist,  when  suddenly  a 
woman,  riding  in  the  opposite  direction, 
swerved  across  the  road  on  her  wheel,  before 
Miss  Cunningham  had  been  given  either  time 
to  slacken  her  speed  or  to  turn  out  of  the  way. 

A  collision  was  inevitable,  and  without  wait- 
ing for  it  to  happen,  as  I  knew  it  must,  in  an- 

58 


ADVENTURE   IN   THE   PARK 

other  instant  I  ran  forward  with  great  spring- 
ing strides. 

It  was  all  over  before  I  could  reach  the 
place.  Both  had  fallen,  and  several  passers- 
by  on  wheels  had  stopped  and  collected  in  so 
close  a  group  that  I  could  not  see  whether  one 
or  both  had  been  seriously  injured. 

In  less  time  than  is  taken  in  the  telling,  how- 
ever, I  had  elbowed  my  way  through  the  well- 
meaning  crowd  to  find  Miss  Cunningham 
sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  grass  nursing  a 
twisted  ankle,  her  lovely  face  looking  white 
and  troubled. 

The  cause  of  the  accident  was  already  on 
her  feet,  and  in  the  midst  of  such  voluble 
apologies  and  explanations  that  I  could  only 
conclude  she,  at  least,  had  suffered  slightly. 

"  Miss  Cunningham,"  I  said,  warning  the 
girl  of  my  presence ;  and  she  looked  up  with  a 
tremulous  little  cry  of  surprise  and  perhaps 
relief. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  thankful!"  she  exclaimed. 
"  I  was  just  wondering  what  I  should  do.  But 
— but  you  will  help  me,  I  know." 

59 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

"  If  you  will  let  me,"  I  responded,  rather 
too  eagerly.  "  I  saw  the  accident  from  a  dis- 
tance. I  hope  you  are  not  much  hurt." 

"  I  don't  quite  know,"  she  said,  ruefully. 

By  this  time  we  had  been  practically  left 
alone.  Seeing  that  an  acquaintance  of  the 
young  lady's  had  opportunely  appeared  upon 
the  scene,  the  others,  whose  proffered  assist- 
ance could  now  be  dispensed  with,  had  one  by 
one  moved  away. 

"  Is  it  your  ankle?  "  I  asked,  stooping  down 
over  the  dainty  foot  which  showed  beneath  the 
short  bicycling  dress. 

1  Yes ;  it  seemed  to  turn  under  me  as  I  fell, 
somehow.  And  my  poor  machine  1  I  know  it 
must  have  had  a  terrible  smash.  I  feel  far 
worse  about  it  than  I  do  about  myself.  But 
the  whole  thing  is  a  punishment,  I  suppose.  I 
oughtn't  to  have  come  out  alone.  Lady  Tres- 
sidy  never  allows  it,  and  will  be  very  cross  with 
me  when  she  hears  what  has  happened,  I'm 
afraid.  I  shan't  have  a  bit  more  sympathy 
than  I  deserve,  when  it  comes  out.  I  hadn't 
meant  her  to  know  at  all,  you  see." 

60 


ADVENTURE    IN    THE    PARK 

I  could  not  imagine  how  even  a  woman  could 
find  it  in  her  heart  to  reproach  the  owner  of 
those  beautiful  appealing  eyes  and  exquisite 
lips,  quivering  now,  between  smiles  and  tears, 
like  those  of  a  mutinous  child. 

If  I  had  dared  tell  her  how  deep  was  the 
sympathy  I  felt!  But  I  was  only  afraid  lest 
she  might  read  it,  and  more,  in  my  eyes. 

Sympathetic  though  I  was,  however,  I  could 
not  control  my  joy  that,  since  the  accident  had 
happened,  I — and  no  other — had  been  on  the 
spot  to  offer  aid  which  she  might  deign  to 
accept. 

"  Don't  mind  about  your  bicycle,"  I  said. 
"  I'm  sure  it's  all  right,  or  can  easily  be  made 
so  again;  and  if  you'll  let  me  enter  into  the 
plot,  perhaps  between  us  we  can  think  of  a 
road  out  of  the  difficulty  with  Lady  Tressidy. 
But  the  first  thing  to  do  is  to  get  you  safely 
away  from  this." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't  walk!  "  she  warned  me, 
laughing  nervously. 

"  Of  course  not.  A  cab's  the  thing,  with  the 
invalided  bike  on  top.  But  may  I  be  with  you? 

61 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

I  don't  see  how  it  is  possible  to  let  you  go  by 
yourself." 

"  It  will  be  very — unconventional,  won't 
it? "  she  smiled.  "  But  there  are  times  when 
conventionalities  must  be  thrown  aside,  and  I 
shall  be  grateful  if  you'll  take  care  of  me,  and 
do  all  the  planning,  please."  Then,  woman- 
like, contradicting  her  own  last  sentence,  she 
went  on,  "  But  I  don't  see  how  we  can  manage 
about  a  cab.  Of  course  there  won't  be  any 
here,  and — I  don't  very  much  want  to  be  left 
sitting  here  all  alone." 

"And  you  shall  not  be,  for  a  moment,"  I 
said,  joyful  even  at  this  small  sign  that  my 
presence  was  not  actually  disagreeable  to  her. 
"  There  are  plenty  of  people  who  will  call  a 
cab  for  us." 

And  I  proceeded  to  put  my  statement  to  the 
proof. 

Within  five  minutes  an  unusually  present- 
able four-wheeler  had  appeared  upon  the 
scene,  the  unfortunate  bicycle  had  been  handed 
up  on  top,  and  the  young  lady  had  been  ten- 
derly helped  inside. 

62  ' 


ADVENTURE    IN    THE    PARK 

"  Tell  him  just  to  go  on  slowly  for  a  few 
minutes  while  we  talk  things  over,'*  she  com- 
manded, more  cheerfully.  "  Do  you  know, 
Mr.  Stanton,  after  all  I  begin  to  hope  my 
ankle  is  not  so  badly  hurt;  and  though,  as  I 
told  you,  I  shall  be  in  a  sad  scrape  when  I  get 
home,  and  have  to  confess,  still — there's  a  spice 
of  adventure  in  all  this  that  appeals  to  me, 
rather.  It's  a  very  long  time  since  I  have  had 
an  adventure  of  any  kind." 

Poor  child,  she  little  guessed  how  many 
awaited  her  behind  the  lowered  curtain  of  the 
future ! 

"  Never  have  I  had  one  which  would  be  so 
wholly  delightful,"  I  boldly  said,  "  if  I  had  not 
to  think  that  you  were  in  pain." 

"  Oh,  it  is  really  not  so  dreadful."  She 
blushed  brightly,  but  when  the  lovely  rose  tint 
faded  it  left  her  pale  even  to  the  lips.  "  Sup- 
pose we  talk,"  she  went  on  more  sedately, 
"  about  the  way  in  which  you  are  to  get  me  out 
of  my  difficulty — for  I  think  you've  promised 
to  do  that." 

I  adopted  her  tone  at  once.  "  Let  us  begin 
63 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

with  judicial  questioning  then.  Was  Lady 
Tressidy  at  home  when  you  came  out?" 

"  No  " — laughing — "  or  I  couldn't  have 
come — on  my  bicycle.  She'd  gone  to  an  anti- 
something  meeting  (Lady  Tressidy  is  very 
fond  of  anti-something  meetings,  as  you'll 
discover  for  yourself  when  you  know  her). 
She  won't  be  at  home  to  lunch  either,  and  she 
need  never  find  me  out  in  my  iniquity,  except 
that — even  though  my  foot  is  not  so  very  bad 
— I  shall  be  sure  to  limp.  She  will  enquire 
what  has  happened,  and,  of  course,  though 
my  conscience  would  not  reproach  me  much 
for  silence,  if  that  were  possible,  I  couldn't 
tell  a  fib." 

I  would  have  been  ready  to  swear  that  she 
was  not  one  of  the  young  women  who  could 
rattle  off  what  they  might  call  "  harmless 
evasions  "  with  a  candidly  smiling  face. 

"  Suppose,  then,"  I  suggested,  "  that  you 
allow  me  to  take  you  at  once  to  a  doctor,  who 
will  examine  your  ankle,  and  perhaps  be  able 
to  anoint  it  with  some  healing  lotion,  which 
may  prevent  the  limping  you  so  dread.  There 

64 


ADVENTURE   IN   THE   PARK 

used  to  be  a  man  in  this  neighbourhood  whom 
I  knew  by  reputation  when  I  was  in  England 
last.  I  remember  street  and  number,  and  it's 
not  very  likely  that  he's  moved  away." 

"  A  grand  idea,"  she  exclaimed;  but  though 
she  tried  to  speak  brightly,  even  merrily,  it 
was  plain  to  see  that  she  was  suffering  a  good 
deal,  whether  more  physically  or  mentally  I 
could  not  tell. 

I  put  out  my  head  and  gave  directions  to 
the  cabman,  and  when  I  drew  it  in  again  to 
glance  anxiously  at  the  face  which  already  I 
so  passionately  loved,  I  saw  that  it  was  even 
whiter  than  before.  The  eyes  were  drooping 
and  the  dark  curling  lashes  almost  swept  the 
colourless  cheeks.  As  though  she  felt  my  gaze 
upon  her,  she  looked  up  instantly,  and  made  an 
effort  to  smile ;  but  the  mischievous  light  which 
had  danced  in  her  eyes  when  she  first  sank  rest- 
fully  back  upon  the  shabby  cushions  of  the  cab 
had  been  suddenly  and  utterly  quenched. 

"  Miss  Cunningham! "  I  exclaimed.  "  You 
have  made  nothing  of  your  pain,  but  I  know 
that  you  are  ill — that  you  are  suffering." 

65 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

"  I  am  very  foolish,"  she  answered,  in  a  low, 
unsteady  voice.  "  It  isn't  my  ankle — though, 
of  course,  that  hurts  a  little — but  I  think  it 
must  be  the  shock,  which  I  didn't  realise  at 
first.  I  felt  quite  bright  until  a  moment  ago, 
but  suddenly  I  am  all  weak  and  trembling. 
The  truth  is,  Mr.  Stanton,  I  wasn't  fit  to  be 
out  this  morning,  especially  alone,  and  I  didn't 
come  simply  from  sheer  bravado,  as  you  might 
think,  and  for  the  sake  of  doing  what  I'd  been 
told  not  to  do.  I — I  felt  as  though  I  must  be 
out  in  the  air,  and  in  motion.  I  didn't  sleep 
last  night,  and  I  didn't  eat  any  breakfast  this 
morning,  which  may  partly  account  for  this 
silliness  of  mine,  perhaps.  I  thought  I  should 
feel  better  out  of  doors,  but  it  seems  that  noth- 
ing in  the  world  can  do  me  any  good.  Every- 
thing I  attempt  must  always  end  in  disaster, 
and — oh,  Mr.  Stanton,  I  am  so  very,  very  un- 
happy and  miserable ! " 

To  my  amazement  and  distress,  she  covered 
her  face  with  her  little  gloved  hands,  and  broke 
into  a  storm  of  sobbing. 


66 


CHAPTER   VII 

FRIENDS 

IT  was  all  I  could  do  to  resist  the  impulse 
to  take  the  small  trembling  hands  in  my  own, 
to  touch  the  bowed  head  with  its  glory  of  shim- 
mering ripples,  to  break  into  passionate  words 
which  must  have  alarmed  her,  and  put  an  end 
to  my  chance  of  winning  her,  perhaps  for 
ever. 

But  to  a  certain  extent  I  was  able  to  control 
myself. 

"  What  can  I  say — what  can  I  do?  "  I  stam- 
mered. "  If  there  was  only  some  way  in  which 
it  might  be  possible  for  me  to  help  you." 

"Ah,  if — if!"  she  echoed,  desolately. 
"  Don't  you  think  it  strange  that,  though  we 
scarcely  know  each  other — though  this  is  only 
our  second  meeting,  and  quite  by  chance,  I 
turn  to  you  with  such  a  confession?  I  am 
ashamed  now  " — and  she  impetuously  dashed 

67 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

her  tears  away  with  a  toy  of  a  handkerchief. 
"  But  the  words  spoke  themselves  before  I 
could  stop  them.  You  see,  I  have  no  one  to 
talk  to — no  one  to  advise  me.  I  think  I  must 
be  the  loneliest  girl  in  all  this  big  preoccupied 
world." 

"  I  should  have  thought  you  would  have 
more  friends  than  you  could  keep  within 
bounds,"  I  said,  hotly. 

"Friends?  Has  anyone  many  friends?  I 
have  plenty  of  acquaintances,  but  I  think  no 
friends.  Let  us  not  talk  of  this  any  more, 
though,  Mr.  Stanton.  I  have  forgotten  my- 
self." 

"  Forgive  me — I  can't  obey  you,"  I  pro- 
tested. "  Just  one  word.  As  you  said,  this  is 
only  our  second  meeting,  and  I  have  no  right 
to  ask  a  favour  of  you,  yet  I  am  going  to  do  it. 
I  beg  of  you,  as  I  never  begged  anything  be- 
fore, that  you  will  forget  how  short  a  time  we 
have  known  each  other,  and  that  you  will  take 
me  for  a  friend — a  friend  in  the  truest  and 
best  sense  of  that  good,  much-abused  word.  I 
swear  to  you  that  you  would  find  me  loyal." 

68 


FRIENDS 

She  looked  up  at  me  in  the  sweetest  way, 
with  eyes  that  glistened  through  a  sheen  of 
tears. 

"  I  believe  that  I  should  find  you  so,"  she 
answered,  falteringly.  "And,  oh,  how  I  do 
need  a  friend — though  you  may  think  me  dis- 
loyal to  say  that,  when  I  have  a  home  with 
those  who — have  meant  to  be  kind  to  me." 
Her  eyes  had  dropped,  but  now  she  raised 
them  again  and  met  mine  earnestly.  *  Yes," 
she  exclaimed — "yes,  I  mil  have  you  for  a 
friend." 

:'  Then  won't  you  begin  by  making  use  of 
me  at  once?"  I  pleaded  with  an  eagerness  I 
could  no  longer  disguise. 

"  I — am  I  not  making  use  of  you  now?  Ah, 
I  know  what  you  mean!  You  mean  I  am  to 
tell  you  the  things  which  I  have  let  you  see  are 
troubling  me?  But  much  as  I  need  help  and 
advice,  could  I  do  that  now,  so  soon?  You 
must  already  think  me  a  very  strange  girl — 
half  mad  perhaps.  Well,  I  have  had  almost 
enough  of  late  to  drive  me  mad.  Some  time, 
in  a  few  days  maybe,  when  we  know  each  other 

69 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

a  little  better,  I But  the  man  is  stopping. 

We  have  come  to  the  doctor's  you  spoke  of, 
I  suppose? " 

I  neither  blessed  the  cabman  nor  the  doctor 
at  that  moment.  Still  less  did  I  do  so  after- 
wards, knowing  that,  if  we  had  not  been  in- 
terrupted then,  it  might  well  have  happened 
that  the  whole  course  of  our  two  lives  had  been 
changed. 

However,  there  was  nothing  to  be  done  but 

ascertain  if  the  eminent  man  was  at  home,  and 

I 

able  to  give  his  attention  to  a  somewhat  urgent  j 
case. 

The  poor  girl,  too,  was  evidently  suffering,1 
and  in  a  highly  nervous  state,  and  it  would 
have  been  cruel,  now  that  the  opportunity  had 
presented  itself,  to  keep  her  for  a  single  in- 
stant from  the  restoratives  doubtless  at  hand. 

Dr.  Byrnes  was  to  be  seen.  I  introduced 
Miss  Cunningham  to  him,  described  the  acci- 
dent, and  left  him  to  do  what  he  could  for  the 
injured  ankle.  Afterwards  I  had  still  the  joy 
of  driving  to  Park  Lane  with  her  in  anticipa- 
tion. 

70 


FRIENDS 

I  was  only  called  when  Dr.  Byrnes  was 
ready  to  send  his  patient  away. 

"  Do  you  know  what  was  the  first  thing  that 
this  young  lady  did  before  I  had  time  to  begin 
my  ministrations?  "  he  jocularly  enquired,  and 
though  the  girl  looked  up  at  him  with  implor- 
ing eyes,  he  persisted.  '  Why,  she  fainted 
away,  and  if  she  had  to  do  it,  she  couldn't  have 
chosen  a  more  proper  occasion.  There  I  was, 
with  all  the  known  remedies  at  hand,  and  I 
proceeded  to  use  them,  with  the  most  satisfac- 
tory results,  as  you  may  see.  I  don't  think 
;you  will  have  any  further  trouble  in  going 
home;  and  now  that  she  has  been  well  dosed 
and  well  bandaged,  the  best  thing  she  can  do 
is  to  eat  a  hearty  luncheon." 

Once  again  settled  in  the  cab,  we  were  but  a 
few  moments'  drive  from  Sir  Walter  Tres- 
sidy's  house  in  Park  Lane,  as  I  knew  to  my 
intense  regret.  With  wily  forethought,  how- 
ever, I  suggested  going  somewhat  out  of  our 
way  to  the  establishment  of  a  certain  bicycle 
manufacturer  and  mender,  who  would  send 
for  Miss  Cunningham's  machine,  and  repair  it 

71 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

before  the  accident  it  had  met  with  could 
be  conjectured  by  those  not  supposed  to 
know. 

Try  as  I  would  I  could  not  induce  her  to 
continue  the  conversation  which  had  been 
broken  short.  The  brief  interval  that  had 
passed  since  then  had  severed  the  threads  of 
intense  emotion  which  had  for  the  moment 
united  us,  and  she,  evidently  repenting  her 
frankness,  was  visibly  ill  at  ease.  It  was  only 
at  the  door  that  her  manner  warmed  a  little 
towards  me  again. 

*  Yes,  I  believe  I  am  quite  all  right,"  she 
said,  in  answer  to  a  question.  "  I  shall  not 
even  have  a  suspicion  of  a  limp."  She  held  out 
her  hand  to  me,  and  did  not  try  to  draw  it 
away,  though  I  grasped  it  rather  longer  and 
more  tightly  than  conventionality  might  have 
approved.  "You  will  come — soon — to  see 
Lady  Tressidy  and — me?  "  she  asked,  softly. 

"  I  thought  of  calling  to-morrow  after- 
noon. May  I  ? " 

"  I  shall  be  glad — very  glad.  Never  shall 
I  forget  your  kindness  to  me  to-day.  Don't 

72 


FRIENDS 

think  me  any;  more — odd — than  you  can  help. 
Good-iye." 

Before  I  could  begin  to  tell  her  how  im- 
possible ft  would  be  to  think  any  save  the  most 
reverent  thoughts  of  her  she  was  gone,  and  a 
cloud  seemed  suddenly  to  darken  my;  sky. 


73 


CHAPTER   VIII 

AN   ANNOUNCEMENT 

I  WOULD  have  given  a  year  of  my  life  to 
know  what  was  the  trouble  and  anxiety  which 
so  wrought  upon  Karine  Cunningham.  She 
was  young,  and  it  might  be  that  her  youth  and 
her  sex  caused  her  mentally  to  exaggerate 
what  was  in  reality  a  trifle ;  yet,  even  with  my 
slight  knowledge  of  her,  I  could  not  believe 
this  to  be  the  case. 

Many  conjectures  passed  in  review  before 
me,  but  that  which  seemed  to  carry  with  it 
most  weight  of  reason  was  the  idea  that  her 
guardian  and  his  wife  were  attempting  to  co- 
erce her  into  some  course  which  was  distaste- 
ful to  her.  Naturally,  the  thought  of  an  ob- 
jectionable lover  occurred  to  me,  and  made  my 
blood  run  the  faster  through  my  veins.  I 
could  not  forgive  the  unknown  and  possible 
for  being  a  lover,  even  though  he  were  to  her 
an  objectionable  one. 

74 


AN  ANNOUNCEMENT 

I  longed  for  the  next  day  to  come  that  I 
might  see  the  beautiful  girl  again,  but  scarcely 
in  the  same  way  that  I  had  longed  for  it  be- 
fore. There  could  be  no  repetition  of  the 
half  confidences  of  to-day,  the  suggestions  of 
friendship  (friendship — what  a  mockery!), 
the  adorable  glances  which  meant  trust,  and  a 
gratitude  which  I  had  not  deserved. 

Lady  Tressidy  would  unfortunately  be 
present.  My  visit  would  ostensibly  be  paid  to 
her.  Already  I  began  to  dislike  her  and  fancy 
that  her  conduct  towards  the  young  girl  en- 
trusted to  her  care  must  have  been  mysteriously 
atrocious. 

No,  I  could  not  expect  much  from  the 
call,  having  been  blessed  with  an  unexpected 
glimpse  of  heaven  which  it  could  not  give  back 
to  me  again.  Still,  I  thought  of  little  else  until 
the  coming  of  the  very  earliest  hour  at  which 
I  could  show  myself  in  Park  Lane  on  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

Yes,  Lady  Tressidy  was  at  home,  vouch- 
safed a  solemn  footman.  My  name  was  an- 
nounced, and  I  scarcely  ventured  to  lift  my 

75 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

eyes  on  entering  the  drawing-room,  lest  they 
should  tell  me  that  Karine  was  not  there.  Per- 
haps she  was  ill.  Indeed,  it  seemed  only  too 
likely  that  she  should  be  so.  I  wondered  I 
had  not  mentally  confronted  that  probability 
before. 

There  were  a  number  of  guests  assembled 
in  the  room,  it  seemed  to  me,  despite  the  fact 
that  everybody  who  was  anybody  was  sup- 
posed to  be  spending  the  Christmas  season  far 
away  in  other  people's  country  houses. 

At  length,  when  I  had  had  a  few  words  with 
my  hostess,  the  crowd  resolved  itself  into  a 
dozen  persons  at  most,  and  seeing  Karine  at  a 
far  end  of  the  room  surrounded  by  three  or 
four  vacuous-looking  young  men,  I  desper- 
ately resolved  to  outstay  everybody. 

I  had  scarcely  more  than  a  glance  and  a 
smile  from  Miss  Cunningham,  and  then  I 
found  myself  obliged  to  talk  with  simulated 
amiability  to  a  semi-young  woman  who  was 
anxious  I  should  know  how  often  she  had 
heard  of  me  and  my  "  travels,"  and  that  she 
had  read  the  two  or  three  books  I  had  been 

76 


AN  ANNOUNCEMENT 

idiot  enough  to  write.  Half  an  hour  went  by. 
I  had  been  passed  on  to  other  ladies,  who 
seemed  to  my  prejudiced  eyes  to  bear  an  as- 
tonishing family  likeness,  both  in  mind  and 
face,  to  the  first  of  the  series.  Three  or  four 
people  had  gone.  One  or  two  new  ones  had 
come  in,  but  at  last  I  had  had  the  good  fortune 
to  escape  from  the  latest  on  my  list  of  ac- 
quaintances. 

I  could  still  see  Karine.  She  had  got  rid  of 
one  of  her  adorers,  but  had  a  couple  yet  in 
hand,  and  it  appeared  to  me  that  she  would  not 
be  sorry  to  bid  them  adieu. 

At  all  events,  her  face  was  pale  as  a  lily  petal 
held  against  the  light,  her  sweet  lips  drooped 
wistfully  at  the  corners,  and  I  thought  she 
spoke  but  seldom.  The  smile  with  which  she 
had  greeted  me  had  been  fleeting,  and  even  as 
it  lingered  there  had  been  an  expression  in  her 
large  soft  eyes  which  it  galled  me  that  I  should 
be  too  dull  to  read.  It  had  seemed  to  say, 
"  Something  has  happened  since  I  saw  you 
last.  Why  did  you  offer  me  your  friendship, 
when  it  was  too  late  to  give  me  any  help? " 

77 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

No  doubt,  I  told  myself,  this  was  but  a  mor- 
bid fancy  of  mine.  If  I  could  have  known  the 
true  motive  of  the  glance  I  should  have  in- 
terpreted what  appeared  like  unutterable  sad- 
ness as  mere  boredom. 

Instead  of  the  earnest  appeal  or  reproach, 
I  imagined  at  most  the  eyes  intended  to  say, 
"  I  have  talked  long  enough  with  these  stupid 
men,  none  of  whom  have  minds  above 
cricket  or  football.  Believe  me  of  them, 
please." 

But  I  had  not  even  been  able  to  do  that, 
though  I  had  tried,  for  as  I  attempted  to  oust 
the  boldest  of  the  group  in  my  own  favour, 
Lady  Tressidy  had  swept  across  the  room, 
with  sharp  rustling  of  silken  linings  and  satin 
skirts,  to  claim  me  for  an  introduction  to  "an 
old  friend  who  had  longed  for  years  to  know 
me." 

At  length,  however,  as  I  said,  I  had  con- 
trived an  escape,  and  was  finding  my  way  to- 
wards Karine,  when,  before  I  had  reached  her, 
I  saw  her  start,  staring  past  me  with  a  white, 
frozen  look  on  her  face  that  for  the  moment 

78 


AN  ANNOUNCEMENT 

blotted  out  much  of  its  innocent  youthfulness 
and  beauty. 

She  was  gazing  in  the  direction  of  the  door, 
with  dark,  dilated  eyes,  and  lips  tightly  closed 
in  a  line  of  scarlet  that  faded  to  palest  pink. 

It  was  as  though  into  the  midst  of  the  gossip 
and  laughter  and  brilliant  light  had  crept  a 
spectre  which  she  alone  could  see.  Some  such 
look  I  had  seen  in  the  eyes  of  a  dove  which  had 
been  offered  up  as  food  for  a  constrictor.  In- 
voluntarily I  turned  and  glanced  behind  me. 

No  name  had  been  announced,  though  I  had 
heard  the  opening  and  closing  of  the  door,  and 
now,  as  I  faced  round  in  that  direction,  I  saw 
that  Sir  Walter  Tressidy  and  Carson  Wildred 
had  come  in  together. 

Evidently  this  was  not  Wildred's  first  en- 
trance, for  like  Sir  Walter,  he  had  neither  hat 
nor  stick.  He  moved  forward  by  his  com- 
panion's side  with  the  unmistakably-assured 
air  of  the  friend  of  the  house,  and  I  instinc- 
tively understood  that  he  had  lunched  with  the 
Tressidys,  and  since  that  time  had  been  closeted 
on  some  business  of  importance  with  his  host. 

79 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

Unreasoningly,  I  hated  him  for  his  privi- 
leges. With  more  of  reason,  I  hated  him  be- 
cause I  believed  the  look  I  had  seen  for  a  single 
instant  on  Karine  Cunningham's  face  was 
connected  with  his  presence. 

That  look  was  gone  now.  When  I  removed 
my  eyes  from  Wildred,  and  turned  again  to 
her,  her  delicate,  spiritual  profile  only  was 
visible.  Her  head  was  graciously  inclined  to- 
wards the  monocled  youth  who  stood  nearest 
her.  She  appeared  no  longer  to  see  Wildred 
or  Sir  Walter  Tressidy. 

I  was  determined  that  the  former  should  not 
approach  her  (as  he  seemed  inclined  to  do)  if 
I  could  prevent  it. 

I  hurried  to  her  accordingly,  and  shut  her 
away  from  the  room,  with  a  pair  of  broad 
shoulders,  and  with  an  air  of  monopolising  her 
which  I  should  not  have  dared  at  any  other 
time  to  assume.  But  was  I  not  her  friend? 
Had  I  not  the  right  to  protect  her,  if  I  could, 
from  all  that  I  believed  to  be  distasteful  to  her? 

Presently,  the  callow  youths,  whose  claims 
I  had  hardly  considered,  seemed  to  melt  away, 

80 


AN  ANNOUNCEMENT 

and  I  was  left  alone  with  her.  People  were 
going,  and  it  was  getting  late,  no  doubt,  but 
I  did  not  yet  mean  to  follow  their  example. 
After  all — despite  my  dismal  presages — it  did 
appear  that  I  was  to  have  her  for  at  least  a 
moment  or  two  to  myself. 

I  had  kept  my  word.  I  had  outstayed  them 
all — all  but  Carson  Wildred. 

"  Have  you  quite  recovered  from  yester- 
day's accident? "  I  asked,  glad  to  share  even 
so  insignificant  a  secret  with  her. 

"  Yes,  oh,  yes!  "  She  spoke  hurriedly,  and 
her  eyes  had  moved  to  the  distant  group  near 
the  fireside — Lady  Tressidy,  Carson  and  Sir 
Walter. 

*  You  haven't  reconsidered  your  promise 
that  I  should  be  your  friend?  " 

She  turned  to  me  quickly,  and  her  eyes 
brimmed  with  unshed  tears.  "  So  many  things 
in  my  life,  though  it  is  not  so  very  long  as  yet, 
have  come  to  me  too  late.  Even — my  friends 
— sometimes." 

Before  I  could  beg  her  to  tell  me  what  she 
meant,  Lady  Tressidy  had  called  her  name, 

81 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

and  she  sprang  up   obediently.    I   followed 
suit,  of  course. 

"  Come  here,  my  dear  girl.  Mr.  Stanton, 
this  is  quite  a  momentous  day  for  us,  and  I 
can't  resist  the  temptation  to  take  you  into  our 
circle  and  our  confidence,"  said  the  elder 
woman,  graciously.  "  It  is  just  settled  that 
this  sweet  adopted  child  of  ours  is  to  leave  us — 
and  at  short  notice  too.  She  and  Mr.  Wildred 
are  going  to  be  married/' 


CHAPTER   IX 

TOO  LATE! 

"  Too  late!  "  the  words  that  Karine  had  just 
spoken  echoed  in  my  ears  like  a  knell  of 
doom. 

For  a  few  tremendous  seconds  that  seemed 
endless  I  stood  paralysed  by  Lady  Tressidy's 
announcement,  unable  to  speak.  Then  I 
turned  and  looked  at  Karine.  Her  eyes 
seemed  to  have  been  waiting  for  mine,  and  for 
an  instant  I  held  them  with  my  gaze,  until  they 
fell,  and  veiled  the  answer  mine  had  asked, 
with  long  shadowy  lashes. 

Never,  I  thought,  as  my  thirsty  eyes  drank 
in  the  beauty  that  was  not  for  me,  could  there 
have  been  another  woman  so  wholly  lovely,  so 
altogether  desirable.  I  could  have  fallen  on 
my  knees  before  her,  to  touch  the  hem  of  her 
dainty  gown  with  my  lips,  and  cry  out  my  love 
and  longing  for  her.  But  instead  I  was  called 
upon  to  say  something  civil,  and  therefore 

83 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

hypocritical,  to  the  newly-engaged  pair,  and 
then,  as  soon  as  decency  would  permit  my  es- 
cape, to  go  out  from  her  presence  for  ever, 
and  face  the  black  loneliness  of  my  darkened 
life. 

Only  a  few  days  had  passed  since  first  I  had 
seen  the  beauty  of  her  face,  but  already  she 
dominated  my  every  thought,  and  I  knew  that 
there  was  no  hope  of  surcease  from  the  aching 
pain  of  having  lost  her. 

Had  I  been  obliged  to  stand  by  and  see  her 
give  herself  to  any  other  man  than  Carson 
Wildred,  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  blow  would 
have  been  more  bearable.  But  with  my  almost 
unreasoning  aversion  for  and  distrust  of  him, 
the  thought  of  a  marriage  between  these  two 
was  like  the  sacrifice  of  fair  virgins  to  the 
foul,  blood-dripping  jaws  of  the  mythical 
Minotaur. 

Slight  as  was  our  actual  acquaintance,  when 
measured  by  mere  time,  it  appeared  the  mad- 
dest conceit  on  my  part  to  believe  for  a  mo- 
ment that  had  I  come  earlier  into  her  life  I 
might  have  made  a  difference.  But,  mad  as  it 

84 


TOO   LATE! 

was,  I  did  so  believe.  Some  voice  within  me, 
which  would  not  be  stilled  or  brook  contradic- 
tion, cried  aloud  that  I  might  have  won  her 
love,  that  she  might  have  been  mine,  that  only 
some  devilish  tangle  of  circumstances  had  cir- 
cumvented the  fate  which  originally  had 
meant  that  we  two  should  be  all  in  all  to  one 
another. 

It  was  perhaps  the  hardest  task  I  had  ever 
been  forced  to  perform  when  after  that  omi- 
nous pause,  which  doubtless  seemed  far  more 
prolonged  to  me  than  to  the  others,  I  held  out 
my  hand,  as  I  was  expected  to  do,  taking  Miss 
Cunningham's  ice-cold  fingers  in  mine,  and 
[wishing  her  happiness. 

Then  I  was  obliged  to  turn  to  Wildred,  in 
whose  eyes  I  saw,  or  fancied  I  saw,  a  malicious 
light  of  comprehension  and  triumphant  defi- 
ance. But  his  hand  I  would  not  take. 

"  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  congratulate  you," 
I  said  haltingly.  '  You  are  one  of  the  most 
fortunate  men  in  the  world." 

"  And  the  most  undeserving?  "  It  was  he 
who  added  the  words,  as  though  he  had  read 

85 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

them  in  my  own  mind ;  and  there  was  a  slight, 
sarcastic  rising  inflection  of  the  voice  at  the 
end  of  the  sentence,  as  if  he  put  it  to  me  as  a 
question. 

Of  course,  I  vouchsafed  him  no  answer,  un- 
less he  found  it  in  my  eyes,  which  have  ever 
been  telltales.  But  in  that  moment  I  would 
have  laid  down  my  life  could  I  have  wrenched 
from  my  memory  that  episode  of  his  history, 
the  secret  of  which  it  mercilessly  withheld  from 
me. 

I  have  a  dim  recollection  of  saying  some- 
thing more  or  less  conventional  to  Sir  Walter 
and  Lady  Tressidy,  and  then,  at  last,  I  got 
away. 

I  had  fancied  that  not  to  have  her  face 
before  my  eyes,  that  not  to  endure  the  pang 
of  seeing  them  together,  and  to  escape  into  the 
open  air,  would  relieve  the  tension  of  my  feel- 
ings. But  it  was  not  so.  The  moment  the 
door  had  closed  behind  me  the  agony  of  the 
thought  that  I  had  seen  her  perhaps  for  the 
last  time,  and  the  poignancy  of  my  regret  that 
I  had  not  been  able  to  put  to  her  one  question 

86 


TOO    LATE! 

which  rang  in  my  brain,  became  well-nigh 
unendurable. 

I  walked  rapidly  away  from  the  house,  tell- 
ing myself  that  the  best  thing  for  me  would 
be  to  leave  England  again  at  once.  I  had  been 
a  fool  to  fancy  myself  homesick,  and  to  come 
back — to  this.  So  far  my  life  had  been  lived 
contentedly  enough  apart  from  the  influence 
or  love  of  women.  What  strange  weakness  of 
the  soul  had  seized  me  that  I  should  thus  have 
yielded  without  a  struggle  to  a  single  glance 
from  a  pair  of  violet  eyes? 

Yes,  assuredly  the  sooner  I  got  away  the 
better.  There  had  been  nothing  save  a  rest- 
less desire  for  home  to  bring  me  to  my  native 
land.  There  was  less  than  nothing  to  keep  me 
there. 

Never  to  see  her  again — never  again!  I  be- 
lieved that  my  mind  was  made  up,  and  yet  I 
think  I  would  have  cut  off  my  hand  for  the 
chance  of  one  more  moment  with  her — one 
more  glimpse  of  her  face  to  take  away  across 
the  sea,  even  though  she  neither  saw  nor  spoke 
to  me. 

87 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE   LOCK 

I  walked  aimlessly  in  the  darkness,  knowing 
not  and  caring  not  where  I  went.  I  heard  a 
clock  strike  eight,  realising  suddenly  that  I 
was  far  from  my  hotel,  and  that  I  had  wearied 
myself  uselessly. 

I  must  write  some  letters  that  night,  crying 
off  two  or  three  engagements  that  I  had  been 
foolish  enough  to  make,  and  explaining  that 
I  had  been  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  called 
away.  As  I  had  walked  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  whither  I  would  go.  India  would  be 
rather  good  at  this  time  of  year,  I  thought, 
and  I  had  always  promised  myself,  when  I 
should  find  the  leisure,  to  make  certain  explora- 
tions. There  had  also  been  an  idea  smoulder- 
ing in  my  mind  for  a  year  or  two  that  with  my 
knowledge  of  the  language,  and  a  proper  dis- 
guise, it  might  be  possible  for  me  to  push  my 
way  into  the  jealously  guarded  Thibet.  Now 
was  the  very  moment  for  some  such  experi- 
ments as  these. 

I  hailed  a  cab  and  drove  back  to  the  Savoy, 
from  a  distant  and  more  or  less  (to  me)  un- 
known region  of  London.  Try  as  I  might  to 

88 


TOO   LATE! 

keep  my  thoughts  from  the  one  absorbing 
topic  by  dwelling  upon  the  plans  for  the  fu- 
ture, the  effort  was  useless.  Karine's  face  was 
before  me,  and  again  and  again  I  heard  her 
words,  which  might  have  meant  so  much  or 
so  little,  "  Many  things  in  my  life — even  my 
friends  sometimes — have  come  to  me  too  late." 

As  I  entered  the  hotel,  my  eyes  dazzled  by 
the  sudden  brilliant  light,  I  could  hardly  for 
an  instant  believe  that  it  was  not  an  optical 
illusion  when  I  saw  in  the  flesh  the  face  which 
had  been  haunting  me. 

But  it  was  indeed  she;  there  was  no  doubt- 
ing that.  People  were  coming  into  the  Savoy 
for  dinner,  now  so  fashionable  a  way  of  passing 
the  deadly  dull  London  Sunday  evening,  and 
in  a  moment  I  had  guessed  that  she  and  her 
party  were  of  the  number.  I  had  even  an  im- 
pression of  a  sentence  begun  by  Lady  Tressidy 
that  afternoon,  which  would  doubtless  have 
ended  with  the  information  that  she  and  the 
others  were  dining  at  my  hotel  in  the  evening, 
had  she  not  been  interrupted,  and  so  forgotten, 
as  I  had  done. 

89 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

There  had  been  a  dreary  drizzle  of  rain  out- 
side, and  I  was  conscious  that  my  long  wander- 
ings through  muddy  streets  had  rendered 
me  unpresentable.  Still,  my  wish  had  been 
granted  me.  There  stood  Karine  Cunning- 
ham, in  white  from  head  to  foot;  a  long  soft 
evening  cloak,  with  shining  silver  threads  stray- 
ing over  its  snowy  surface,  hung  loosely  about 
her,  for  she  had  fastened  it  at  the  throat,  and 
I  could  see  a  gleam  of  bare  neck,  hung  with 
a  rope  of  pearls,  and  the  delicate  folds  of 
chiffon  belted  in  with  jewels  at  her  girlish 
waist. 

Her  head  was  turned  aside  and  slightly  bent, 
a  light  from  above  streaming  down  on  her  un- 
covered hair,  and  transforming  the  copper  into 
gold. 

Sir  Walter  and  Lady  Tressidy  were  close 
by — not  six  feet  away — and  all  were  evidently 
waiting  for  someone — Carson  Wildred,  no 
doubt,  I  bitterly  told  myself. 

None  of  the  party  had  as  yet  seen  me.  Sir 
Walter  and  his  wife  were  talking  very  earn- 
estly together,  and  had  perhaps  moved  a  few 

90 


TOO   LATE! 

steps  from  the  young  girl  that  their  words 
might  not  be  overheard  by  her. 
F  I  knew  that,  if  I  were  wise,  I  would  at  once 
take  myself  off  without  announcing  my  pres- 
ence, but  a  sudden  impulse  seized  and  over- 
mastered me.  It  was  a  desperate  one,  doubt- 
less, but  none  the  less  alluring  and  powerful 
because  of  that. 


91 


CHAPTER   X 

"  IF  HE  HAD   COMMITTED   A   CRIME  " 

KARINE  stood,  as  I  said,  perhaps  a  couple 
of  yards  distant  from  her  friends,  and  their 
backs,  at  the  present  moment,  were  more  than 
half  turned  to  her.  It  would  be  just  possible 
for  me  to  speak  to  her,  without  being  observed 
by  them,  if  I  were  both  extraordinarily  cau- 
tious and  lucky.  At  any  moment  Wildred, 
who  had  perhaps  gone  to  rectify  some  vex- 
atious mistake  about  a  table,  might  return.  If 
I  meant  to  take  the  step  at  all  there  was  no 
time  to  be  lost  in  doing  so. 

Without  giving  myself  a  second  for  further 
reflection,  and  with  the  blood  surging  to  my 
temples,  I  found  myself,  with  a  few  strides, 
beside  her.  Mud-stained  boots  and  trousers 
were  forgotten.  I  would  waste  no  time  in 
apologising  for  my  appearance. 

What  she  must  have  thought  of  my  pale 
and  eager  face,  suddenly  bent  over  her,  I  do 
not  know.  I  felt  that  a  great  crisis  in  my  life, 

92 


"IF   HE    COMMITTED    CRIME" 

perhaps  in  hers  as  well,  had  arrived,  and  my 
eyes  must  have  shown  something  of  that  which 
stirred  so  passionately  in  mind  and  heart,  for 
she  started  with  a  look  almost  of  fear  as  she 
saw  and  recognised  me. 

She  uttered  no  exclamation,  however.  If 
she  had,  Sir  Walter  and  Lady  Tressidy  would 
have  heard  and  looked  round,  and  my  one 
chance,  so  desperately  snatched  from  Fate, 
would  have  been  gone  like  a  bubble  that  bursts 
ere  it  has  fairly  expanded. 

Without  one  spoken  word  I  made  her  see 
that  she  must  come  with  me,  and  the  quick  real- 
isation of  my  power  over  her,  as  she  laid  her 
hand  upon  my  arm  unhesitatingly,  thrilled  me 
to  the  very  core  of  my  being. 

Most  women  would  have  refused  to  come, 
or  at  least  questioned  my  sudden  appearance 
and  intention,  but  not  so  with  her.  She  knew 
that  I  had  something  to  say  to  her  which  must 
be  said,  and  it  was  her  will  to  hear  it. 

She  had  been  pale  as  a  statue  of  marble^  as 
she  stood  leaning  listlessly  against  the  wall  in 
her  white  dress,  but  as  she  moved  away;  withi 

93 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

me  life  and  colour  came  back  to  her  face. 
I  led  her  down  the  hall  to  a  small  public 
drawing-room,  and  not  once  did  she  hesitate 
or  look  back,  unconventional  as  was  the  ad- 
venture in  which  she  was  engaged. 

Luckily,  the  place  was  empty,  save  for  two 
elderly  French  women,  who  gossiped  and  gab- 
bled with  their  heads  close  together  on  a  sofa 
in  a  corner. 

"  What  is  it — oh,  what  is  it? "  questioned 
Karine.  "  Quick  I  there  will  only  be  a  moment, 
I  know,  for  they  will  see  that  I  have  gone,  and 
will  soon  find  me  here." 

Without  any  preface  I  came  straight  to  the 
asking  of  the  bald,  crude  question  which  was  in 
my  mind  to  ask. 

"  For  the  sake  of — our  friendship,  Miss 
Cunningham,  forgive  me,  and  tell  me  whether 
you  love  Carson  Wildred?" 

She  started  and  quivered  almost  as  though 
I  had  struck  her  a  blow,  and  her  large,  fright- 
ened eyes  studied  mine  for  a  long  second  with- 
out answering.  Then  she  said,  simply,  "  No, 
my  friend,  I  do  not — love  him." 

94 


"IF   HE    COMMITTED    CRIME" 

"  Yet  you  have  promised  to  many  him?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  mean  to  carry  out  that  promise?  " 

"  Yes,  unless " 

"  Unless  what? " 

"  Something — happens  to  prevent  me." 

"  If  you  do  not  love  him  something  shall 
prevent.  Let  me  help  you.  For  heaven's  sake, 
let  me!  Only  give  me  an  idea  how  it  can  best 
be  done — I  ask  no  more.  I  will  teach  you  what 
such  a — friendship  as  mine  can  have  the  power 
to  do." 

I  hoped  to  give  her  courage  by  the  passion 
and  force  of  my  words,  but,  strangely  enough, 
the  bright  eagerness  died  out  of  her  face  as  I 
spoke.  In  some  way  I  had  missed  saying  the 
thing  which  might  have  comforted  her.  If  I 
had  only  known — if  I  had  only  known! 

"  You  are  very  kind,"  she  said,  gently  and 
sadly.  "  I  am  not  looking  forward  to  any 
great  degree  of  happiness  in  my  life,  but  I 
daresay,  after  all,  I  shall  get  on  as  well  as  most 
women.  I  don't  think  anything  will  happen 
to  prevent — what  we  were  speaking  of." 

95 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

"  Why,  is  it  to  come  so  soon,  then?  "  I  ques- 
tioned, impetuously. 

"  In  six  weeks.  It  was  all  arranged  to-day  " 
— with  a  soft  little  sigh  at  the  end  of  her 
sentence. 

'  Tell  me  this:  Are  you  in  any  way  being 
forced  into  the  marriage?  " 

"Not  by  people — exactly.  Only  by  cir- 
cumstances. I — I  can't  tell  you  any  more, 
though,  believe  me,  I  am  grateful  for  all  you 
mean,  and  all  you  would  do  for  friendship's 
sake."  There  seemed  a  faint  ring  of  stifled  bit- 
terness in  the  last  three  words,  though  where- 
fore it  should  come  I  knew  not.  If  she  had 
resented  the  warmth  of  my  "  friendship  "  after 
our  brief  acquaintance,  what  would  she  feel, 
I  dimly  wondered,  should  I  forget  myself,  and 
be  coward  and  fool  enough  to  tell  her  of  my 
mad  love  on  the  very  day  of  her  betrothal  to 
another  man? 

With  all  my  strength  I  held  my  tongue 
under  control,  and  heaven  knows  it  was  no  easy 
victory,  with  those  sweet  eyes  looking  into 
mine! 

96 


"IF    HE    COMMITTED    CRIME" 

"  Tell  me  what  could  prevent  it? "  I  per- 
sisted imploringly.  "  If  you  found  that  he 
was  unworthy,  would  that " 

She  half  smiled,  though  without  any  mirth- 
fulness.  "  There  are  so  many  degrees  of  un- 
worthiness,  aren't  there?  And  I  am  not  near 
enough  to  perfection  to  believe  myself  a 
judge." 

"If  he  had  committed  a  crime?"  I  went 
desperately  on.  And  the  words  on  my  own 
lips  made  me  start  as  though  with  a  sudden 
revelation.  I  seemed  to  have  assured  myself 
of  a  fact  which  had  actually  taken  place,  rather 
than  uttered  a  mere  suggestion.  The  convic- 
tion grew  within  me  that  if  Carson  Wildred 
had  not  successfully  altered  his  face  and  each 
characteristic  of  his  personality,  I  should  at 
once  be  able  not  only  to  remember,  but  to  prove 
that  my  haunting  half -recollection  was  inti- 
mately connected  with  some  criminal  deed  done 
by  him. 

"  Ah,  then!  But  it  is  wrong  to  wish  that  he 
should  have  been  guilty  of  any  wickedness.  I 
think,  Mr.  Stanton,  that  as  I  hare  promised 

97 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

to  be  his  wife  we  must  talk  no  more  of  this — 
you  and  I.  I  have  always  had  a  horror  of 
disloyalty." 

"  I  know,"  I  said,  "  that  I  have  done  an  un- 
heard-of thing  in  thus  stealing  you  away  from 
your  friends  to  ask  you  questions  which  only 
the  most  intimate  friends  could  claim  the  right 
to  ask,  but " 

"  Oh,"  she  cried,  impulsively.  "  Somehow 
you  and  I  have  bridged  over  years.  You  are 
good  to  me — don't  think  I  will  misunderstand. 
I  shall  always  remember  you,  and — what  you 
would  have  done  for  me." 

"  What  I  shall  try  yet  to  do,  in  spite  of  all," 
I  amended.  "  I  meant  to  leave  England  soon, 
but  now — I  shall  stay." 

"Yes — stay,"  she  faintly  echoed;  "though 
you  must  leave  me  now.  I — I  would  rather 
anything  than  that  you  were  with  me  when 
they  come  to  me.  I  will  make  them  some  ex- 
cuse for  having  separated  myself  from  them. 
Only  go  now — please  go." 

As  she  spoke,  outside  in  the  hall  we  heard 
voices  and  footsteps  coming  nearer. 

98 


CHAPTER   XI 

WILDRED   SCORES 

KARINE'S  face  grew  paler  than  before. 

Throwing  up  her  head  with  a  proud,  spirited 
little  gesture,  she  walked  quickly;  to  the  door, 
and  passed  into  the  hall. 

I  knew  that  this  was  to  prevent  her  friends 
from  entering  and  finding  us  together,  as  they 
must  otherwise  have  done ;  and  there  was  noth- 
ing for  me  to  do  (cowardly  as  this  seemed)  but 
obey  her,  and  passively  submit  to  the  carrying 
out  of  her  scheme. 

It  had  indeed  been  Sir  Walter  and  Lady 
Tressidy  and  Carson  Wildred  whose  voices  we 
had  heard. 

'  Why  did  you  run  away?  We  have  been 
looking  for  you  everywhere,  and  wasting  so 
much  time !  "  I  heard  Lady  Tressidy  say  f ret- 
fully. 

"  I  was  very  tired  of  standing,"  the  girl 
promptly  returned,  "  and  of  waiting,  too  " — 
with  a  certain  imperiousness  in  her  tone.  "  I 

99 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

wandered  away  to  fill  up  the  time  till  Mr.  Wil- 
dred  should  have  straightened  matters  m  the 
dining-room." 

She  had  contrived  to  satisfy  their  curiosity 
without  telling  an  actual  falsehood,  of  which 
I  knew  instinctively  she  would  greatly  dislike 
making  herself  guilty. 

It  did  not  seem  to  occur  to  them  to  enter  the 
drawing-room  where  she  had  left  me;  and 
when  I  was  sure  that  they  had  passed  out  of 
sight  and  hearing  I  came  forth  from  the  igno- 
minious hiding-place  to  which  her  command 
had  condemned  me. 

In  the  exalted  mood  which  had  possession  of 
me  the  thought  of  dinner  would  have  been  ab- 
horrent. For  the  rest  of  the  evening  I  kept 
my  room,  meditating  many  things,  and  be- 
coming more  and  more  desirous  of  learning 
Carson  Wildred's  secret,  if  secret  indeed  he 
had. 

At  all  events,  I  still  had  six  weeks  in  which 
to  work,  with  the  hope  ever  before  me  of  sav- 
ing Karine  Cunningham  from  the  man  whom, 
by  her  own  confession,  she  did  not  love. 

100 


WILDRED    SCORES 

Strange  and  desperate  expedients  passed  in 
review  before  me.  How  was  I  to  accomplish 
my  object?  The  man  had  denied  ever  having 
met  me  in  old  days  when  it  had  been  mentioned 
to  him  that  I  fancied  a  previous  acquaintance 
had  somewhere  existed ;  and  if  I  were  to  learn 
anything  satisfactory  in  regard  to  his  antece- 
dents I  felt  that  it  must  be  from  others. 

He  had  made  himself  a  name  in  a  certain  set 
in  London,  there  was  no  doubt  of  that;  and  I 
set  myself  to  find  out,  step  by  step,  how  he  had 
contrived  to  do  it — what  was  the  actual  founda- 
tion for  the  reports  of  his  wealth,  his  "  smart- 
ness," his  influence  on  many  sides. 

On  the  following  day,  Monday,  I  went  to 
my  old  club,  the  Wayfarers,  which  I  had  not 
yet  troubled  with  my  presence,  and  picked  out 
a  man  named  Driscoll,  who  made  a  business  of 
knowing  everybody  and  everything.  Begin- 
ning with  some  conventional  talk  about  the 
changes  in  England  in  general,  and  London  in 
particular,  since  I  had  seen  it  last,  I  managed 
to  mention  Carson  Wildred  without  appear- 
ing to  have  dragged  his  name  into  the  con- 

101 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

versation    for    any    special    purpose    of   my 
own. 

It  sprang  from  some  talk  about  a  British 
Christmas,  and  I  made  as  humorous  a  story  as 
I  could  about  my  having  gone  down  to  the 
House  by  the  Lock  only  to  miss  my  friend  and 
my  dinner  after  all. 

"  Wildred  can  entertain  royally  if  he 
chooses,"  said  Driscoll.  "  I've  been  to  dinners 
he  gave  at  the  Savoy  and  Prince's,  and  Willis's 
Rooms,  don't  you  know,  something  really  quite 
original,  with  flowers  alone  which  must  have 
cost  a  fortune.  People  come  to  his  entertain- 
ments, too — he  can  get  anybody  he  wants — 
from  the  duchesses  down  to  the  music-hall 
favourites,  even  if  he  likes  to  get  up  a  conven- 
tional river  party,  with  a  spread  down  at  that 
queer  place  of  his  you  speak  of — the  House 
by  the  Lock." 

,    • "  It  is  a  queer  place  indeed,"  I  echoed.    "  I 
wonder  how  he  came  by  it? " 

"  Oh,  if  the  stories  are  true,  in  a  way  as 
peculiar  as  the  place  itself,  therefore  appropri- 
ate. It  was  owned,  I  know  for  a  matter  of 

102 


WILDRED    SCORES 

fact,  by  an  Italian  whose  father  was  exiled, 
and  came  over  here  to  live  after  '48,  a  chap  by 
the  name  of  di  Tortorelli,  belonged  to  a  good 
family  and  all  that,  had  the  entree  everywhere. 
The  son,  a  nice  fellow  except  that  he  was  weak, 
loved  nothing  so  well  as  baccarat.  Somehow 
he  and  Wildred  got  acquainted,  when  Wildred 
was  little  known,  if  at  all,  in  society,  and  the 
two  played  cards  on  rather  a  big  scale  at  the 
house  of  a  mutual  friend.  Di  Tortorelli  had 
bad  luck  one  night,  lost  a  pot  of  money,  and 
finally,  having  nothing  else  left  that  was  worth 
having,  staked  the  House  by  the  Lock — very 
dilapidated,  and  in  a  shocking  state  of  repair. 
"  Well,  that's  the  way  Wildred  got  it,  and 
there  are  those  who  do  say  that  after  having 
won  almost  everything  Tortorelli  had,  Wildred 
financed  him  till  his  marriage  with  a  rich  Amer- 
ican on  the  proviso  that  Tortorelli  should  get 
him  into  the  smart  set.  Those  are  only  Wil- 
dred's  enemies,  of  course,  for  like  most  men 
of  strong  character  he  has  a  few,  though  on 
the  whole  his  generosity  has  made  him  ex- 
tremely popular." 

103 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

"  Then  he  knew  no  one  when  he  first  ap- 
peared over  the  social  horizon? "  I  went  on 
questioning. 

Driscoll  laughed.  "  I  never  heard  of  any- 
one who  knew  him  before  the  day  when  he 
first  blazed  forth  as  a  social  luminary  about 
three  or  four  years  ago.  He  took  a  house  in 
town  for  the  season,  I  remember — it  was  the 
Duke  of  Torquay's — one  of  the  finest  in  town, 
and  let  for  a  fabulous  sum.  Then  he  and  Tor- 
torelli  gave  an  entertainment  together,  some- 
how securing  several  royalties,  to  say  nothing 
of  Paderewski  and  La  Belle  Otero,  and  one 
or  two  other  celebrities,  who  must  each  have 
cost  him  anywhere  from  a  thousand  to  two 
thousand  pounds  for  the  one  night. 

"  After  that,  Wildred  was  made,  of  course, 
for  the  affair  was  a  brilliant  success.  By  the 
way,  that  was  the  first  time  he  ever  met  the 
beautiful  Miss  Cunningham,  who  had  just 
made  a  triumphant  debut  as  the  beauty  of  the 
season — in  fact,  most  people  think  the  most 
beautiful  girl  who  has  been  seen  since  the  day 
when  Mrs.  Langtry  created  her  first  sensa- 

104 


WILDRED    SCORES 

tion  in  London.  Miss  Cunningham  was  at  the 
party  with  the  Tressidys,  and  blase  chap  as 
he  was  even  then,  Wildred  went  down  at  the 
first  shot  from  a  pair  of  dark  eyes — violet? — 
brown? — no  one  ever  yet  was  sure  of  their 
colour.  Of  course  she's  a  great  heiress,  but 
the  man  must  be  blind  and  paralysed  who 
couldn't  fall  in  love  with  Karine  Cunningham 
for  herself;  and  however  he  gets  it,  Carson 
Wildred  has  no  lack  of  money  of  his  own." 

"  How  does  gossip  say  he  gets  it? "  I  went 
on  to  enquire  with  eagerness  which  I  concealed 
as  best  I  could. 

"  Oh,  gossip  doesn't  trouble  itself  much  in 
that  way!"  Driscoll  laughed.  "  It  only  con- 
cerns itself  to  eat  his  dinners,  for  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  though  I  can't  exactly  vouch  for  it  my- 
self, there  isn't  much  secret  about  the  way  the 
money  pours  in.  It's  the  man's  extraordinary 
luck !  He  seems  to  have  a  lot  of  relations  who 
are  always  good-naturedly  going  off  the  hooks 
and  leaving  Wildred  fortunes  just  when  he 
needs  them  most.  Old  fellows  in  the  Antip- 
odes, don't  you  know,  who  might  really  quite 

105 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

as  well  be  dead  as  not.  It's  all  straight  enough, 
of  course,  but  the  funny  thing  is  that  if  one 
hears  one  day  that  Wildred  has  come  rather 
a  cropper  at  Newmarket  or  the  Derby,  or 
somewhere  else,  the  news  within  the  month  is 
pretty  sure  to  be  that  another  Johnny  in  Aus- 
tralia or  elsewhere  has  conveniently  slipped  his 
cable  and  left  Wildred  a  cool  fifty  thousand 
or  so  at  the  very  least." 

Hardly  had  the  laughter  prompted  by  his 
own  words  died  on  DriscolTs  lips,  when  to  my 
astonishment  the  man  of  whom  we  spoke  saun- 
tered into  the  room.  He  was  looking  at  peace 
with  all  the  world,  and  as  nearly  handsome  as 
it  was  possible  for  him  to  look,  the  contrast 
between  him  and  the  podgy,  elderly  gentleman 
by  whom  he  was  accompanied  being  much  to 
his  advantage. 

"  Talking  of  angels!"  ejaculated  Driscoll 
beneath  his  breath;  "  what  do  you  think  of  that 
for  a  coincidence? " 

"  Is  he  a  member  here? "  I  asked  in  an 
equally  low  voice,  for  I  did  not  wish  Wildred 
to  have  the  satisfaction  of  guessing  that  he 

106 


WILFRED    SCORES 

had  formed  the  subject  of  conversation  be- 
tween me  and  my  companion. 

"  No,"  Driscoll  said,  "  but  he  often  comes 
in  with  old  Wigram,  who's  been  a  great  trav- 
eller, you  know,  and  who  now  goes  in  no  end 
for  dabbling  in  chemistry.  That's  Wildred's 
great  fad,  and  makes  the  two,  who  are  as  dif- 
ferent as  possible,  rather  chummy." 

As  we  spoke  on,  still  in  somewhat  cautious 
tones,  the  two  newcomers  drew  nearer  to  us, 
greeting  several  men  whom  they  knew,  and 
finally  sat  down.  The  room  felt  the  colder  to 
me  for  Carson  Wildred's  presence. 

Half  an  hour  dragged  along,  and  I  was 
thinking  of  moving  on,  when,  as  I  passed  Wil- 
dred  with  a  slight  inclination  in  return  for  his, 
somewhat  to  my  surprise  he  followed  me. 

"  How  do  you  do?  "  he  said,  with  an  attempt 
at  an  ingratiating  smile.  "  Now,  if  you  won't 
think  me  rude  for  the  suggestion,  I'd  be  will- 
ing to  bet  you  a  hundred  pounds  to  a  fiver  that 
you  and  Driscoll  were  doing  me  the  honour  of 
discussing  some  of  my  affairs,  if  not  myself, 
when  I  happened  to  look  in  just  now." 

107 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

Here  was  a  good  opening  for  a  conversa- 
tion unweighted  by  polite  fictions,  and  I  un- 
hesitatingly accepted  it.  "Yes,"  I  replied, 
quietly,  turning  more  fully  towards  him,  "  we 
were  talking  of  you  and  your  affairs." 

"  I  readily  divined  that  from  the  look  on 
DriscolTs  innocent  old  mug  as  I  entered.  I 
am  remarkably  quick  at  reading  other  people's 
faces." 

"  I  have  flattered  myself  that  I  am  the  same 
— when  the  faces  have  not  been  altered  almost 
(if  not  quite)  beyond  recognition." 

I  looked  full  into  his  curious  pale  eyes  as  I 
gave  him  this  hint,  but  they  did  not  fall  before 
mine,  and  his  dark,  sallow  skin  could  scarcely 
be  paler  than  its  wont. 

He  returned  my  stare,  and  was  not  afraid 
to  show  me  that  my  meaning  had  made  itself! 
clearly  understood. 

;<  Why  speak  in  riddles,  my  dear  Mr.  Stan- 
ton?  "  he  asked,  shrugging  his  shoulders  a  little. 
"  But  as  we  have  got  upon  this  subject,  sup- 
pose we  follow  it  up  to  the  end — bitter  or 
otherwise — and  as  you  may  not  care  to  take 

108 


WILFRED    SCORES 

all  your  fellow- Wayfarers  into  your  inmost 
confidence,  I  suggest  that  we  move  out  of  ear- 
shot of  the  mob.  Here  are  a  couple  of  chairs, 
and  a  table,  far  from  the  madding  crowd. 
Shall  we  sit  for  five  minutes  or  so?  Thanks. 
And  won't  you  let  me  offer  you  a  cigar?  These 
are  not  bad  ones.  A  present  from  the  Shah- 
zada  last  year! " 

I  courteously  refused  the  offer,  watch- 
ing him  with  some  interest  as,  pretending  to 
be  unconscious  of  or  indifferent  to  my 
scrutiny,  he  struck  a  match  and  lighted  his 
cigar. 

"  I  have  already  frankly  assured  you,  Mr. 
Stanton,"  he  went  on,  "that  I  am  not  aware 
of  having  met  you  before  the  other  night — 
Christmas  Eve,  I  think  it  was — at  the  theatre 
with  my  very  good  friend  Farnham.  But  you 
evidently  wish  me  to  see  that  you  still  firmly 
believe  I  am — er — mistaken.  Am  I  not  stat- 
ing the  case  correctly?  But  it  is  certainly  far 
from  flattering  to  me  that  you  should  have 
almost  completely  forgotten  me,  to  say  the 
least." 

109 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

"  I  shall  remember  you  again,  sooner  or 
later,"  I  murmured. 

"  I  sincerely  hope  so,  if  in  any  way  we  have 
come  across  each  other  in  the  past,  unknown  to 
me.  But  I  have  been  so  well  acquainted  with 
you  by  reputation  for  some  years,  Mr.  Stan- 
ton,  that  I  would  be  ready  to  swear  my 
memory  could  not  have  played  me  false." 

I  did  not  reply,  save  by  a  slight  upward 
movement  of  the  eyebrows,  but  I  was  conscious 
that  he  was  gazing  at  me  intently. 

"  You  do  not  like  me,"  he  remarked  pres- 
ently, in  the  same  low,  monotonous  tone  of 
voice  which  we  had  employed  so  far  through- 
out our  disjointed  conversation. 

It  was  my  turn  to  shrug  my  shoulders.  "  I 
should  not  be  apt  to  select  you  as  a  friend." 

"  I  wonder " — very  slowly  and  lazily — 
"  whether  it  be  possible  that  I  can  in  any  way, 
quite  inadvertently,  have  interfered  with  your 
plans?  " 

"  Rather  say,"  I  broke  out  imprudently, 
"  that  it  is  possible  I  may  interfere  with 
yours ! " 

110 


WILFRED    SCORES 

He  laughed.    "  I  wonder  how?  " 

"  In  no  definite  way,  unless — I  should  hap- 
pen suddenly  to  remember  exactly  where  and 
how  I  have  met  you  before.  That  little  acci- 
dent might  slightly  hamper  your  career  in 
general  for  the  future  perhaps." 

'  You  are  pleased  to  be  insulting.  And  yet, 
somehow,  I  don't  want  to  take  offence  from 
you.  I  would  much  prefer  to  argue  you  out 
of  your  somewhat  unreasonable  prejudice  and 
mistake.  Do  you  suggest,  for  instance,  that  I 
am  now  concealing  my  identity  under  a  dis- 
guise? " 

So  speaking  he  raised  his  hand  with  a  pre- 
tence at  carelessness,  pushing  his  dark  hair 
from  his  forehead  in  such  a  way  as  to  as- 
sure me  without  doubt  that  he  did  not  wear  a 
wig. 

;'  The  moustache — allow  me  to  give  you  an 
ocular  demonstration — is  equally  genuine,"  he 
sneered.  "  I  don't  sport  a  false  nose,  or  I 
should  have  procured  myself  a  more  desirable 
one,  and  my  teeth  " — with  a  disagreeable  grin 
— "  are  my  own.  Have  I  convinced  you  that 

111 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

I  have  not  tampered  with  Nature's  handiwork, 
such  as  it  is?  " 

"  You  might  have  waited,  Mr.  Wildred,"  I 
returned,  "  until  I  had  accused  you  of  doing 
so  before  trying  to  prove  the  contrary.  You 
know  the  saying,  *  He  who  excuses,  accuses 
himself,'  I  suppose?  " 

"  I  have  heard  it,  though  fortunately  it  does 
not  concern  the  case.  Look  here,  Mr.  Stanton, 
you  and  I  are  sitting  here  among  mutual 
friends,  apparently  holding,  so  far  as  they  can 
see  or  hear,  an  amicable  discussion.  But  the 
truth  is  I  have  wit  enough  to  understand  that 
what  you  would  like  and  what  you  mean  is — 
war  to  the  knife!  Fortunately  for  me,  I  am 
one  of  Her  Majesty's  most  peaceable,  law- 
abiding  subjects,  and  always  have  been  so.  I 
have  as  little  to  hide  in  my  past  as  any  man 
can  possibly  have — less  than  yourself  even,  it 
may  be — and  therefore  I  do  not  fear  your  pry- 
ing, and  can  afford  to  laugh  at  your  imper- 
tinence. 

"  I  will  even  have  my  family  tree  brought 
out  for  your  benefit  if  you  choose,  and  will  en- 


WILDRED    SCORES 

gage  to  show  you  the  diary  which  I  have  kept 
for  years,  and  where  you  can  see  exactly  how 
and  where  my  time  has  heen  spent  for  the  last 
decade  or  so.  Anything  to  please  a  famous, 
and  therefore  privileged,  man  like  yourself. 
Is  it  a  bargain,  Mr.  Stanton — will  you  accept 
my  data  if  I  provide  it  for  you?  " 

"  So  great  an  anxiety  to  disarm  the  suspi- 
cions of  a  stranger  might  tend  to  confirm  and 
strengthen  them,"  I  said,  slowly. 

"As  you  will.  I  see  you  don't  intend  to 
take  my  overtures  of  peace  in  the  spirit  in 
which  they  were  offered.  Well,  you  seem  fond 
of  proverbs,  so  here  is  a  Roland  for  your  Oliver 
— 'forewarned  is  forearmed'  You  will  not 
have  me  for  a  friend;  you  are  indiscreet  enough 
to  advise  me  that  you  intend  to  make  mischief 
for  me  if  you  can — if  you  can,  mind!  My 
conscience  is  clear  as  to  my  past ;  and  here  and 
now  I  dare  you  to  do  your  worst !  " 

Leaning  his  elbow  on  the  table,  his  head 
upon  his  hand,  he  faced  me,  looking  up  side- 
ways with  a  mocking  brilliance  in  his  pale  eyes. 

"  It  is  my  turn  to  give  you  warning,  and 
113 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

it  is  this:  I  make  a  bad  enemy.  Even  had  I 
some  black  secret,  jealously  guarded  for  years 
— which  I  haven't — you  would  never  drag  it 
from  me.  I  believe  myself  to  be  a  cleverer 
man  than  you,  and  if  I  had  chosen  the  role  of 
villain  I  should  have  been  a  successful  one, 
there  is  no  doubt.  You  would  not,  Mr.  Stan- 
ton.  Had  I  something  which  it  was  vital  to 
my  interests  to  conceal,  I  should  have  gone 
about  it  in  such  a  way  that  not  the  devil  himself 
pitted  against  me  should  worm  my  secret  from 
me.  Had  I  elected  to  commit  a  crime,  it  would 
not  have  been  until  after  I  was  ready  with  an 
absolutely  infallible  alibi. 

"  Now,  if  you  are  sensible,  the  very  fact 
that  I  have  made  these  admissions  will  prove 
my  innocence  to  you.  It  will  be  a  waste  of 
your  valuable  time  if  you  attempt  to  stand  in 
my  way,  in  any  quarter  whatever"  He  rose 
lazily.  "  Good-evening,  Mr.  Stanton,"  he  said, 
in  a  louder  tone,  which  he  made  both  cordial 
and  impressive  for  the  benefit  of  any  listening 
ears.  '  This  has  been  a  most  interesting  chat 
with  you,  one  I  am  not  likely  soon  to  forget. 

114 


WILDRED    SCORES 

I  hope  it  may  not  be  long  before  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  you  again." 

He  had  certainly  scored.  I  was  obliged, 
hot  with  indignation  and  self -scorn,  mentally 
to  confess  as  much.  He  had  kept  his  temper, 
and  he  had  got  the  better  of  me.  If  my  time 
would  only  cornel 


115 


CHAPTER  XII 

KARINE'S  ENGAGEMENT  RING 

IN  the  first  hour  of  my  anguish  after  hear- 
ing that  Karine  was  lost  to  me,  I  had  come  very 
near  to  registering  a  vow  that  voluntarily  I 
would  not  see  her  again.  Now,  however,  since 
our  memorable  chance  meeting  in  the  hotel, 
my  resolve  was  different.  I  determined,  on 
the  contrary,  that  I  would  see  her  as  often  as 
possible. 

Even  if  I  had  to  follow  the  Tressidys  into 
the  country  on  a  pretence  of  hunting,  or  some 
other  flimsy  pretext  of  the  sort,  I  would  be 
near  her.  I  had  luckily  kept  my  head  suffi- 
ciently to  breathe  no  word  of  love  to  Karine. 
I  had  even  dwelt  with  some  emphasis  upon  my 
"  friendship,"  as  though  to  assure  her  that  she 
need  fear  no  more,  need  dread  no  persecution 
at  my  hands.  I  believed  that  she  did  not  sus- 
pect my  real  feeling  for  her,  and  certainly  Sir 

116 


KARINE'S    ENGAGEMENT    RING 

Walter  and  Lady  Tressidy  had  no  reason  to 
fancy  anything  of  the  kind. 

Wildred  had  suspicions,  I  was  sure,  but  they 
could  only  have  been  born  of  quick  and  jeal- 
ous intuitions.  He  could  make  no  charge 
against  me,  and  it  was  not  likely,  I  thought, 
that  he  would  choose  deliberately  to  put  such 
an  idea  into  his  fiancee's  head,  unless  I  were 
far  less  cautious  in  my  behaviour  than  I  meant 
to  be. 

I  could  not  conceal  from  myself  that  the 
talk  I  had  had  with  the  fellow  at  the  Way- 
farers' had  somewhat  discouraged  me  as  to 
the  ultimate  success  of  my  efforts  to  expose 
him,  and  as  days  went  on  I  found  it  impossible 
entirely  to  shake  off  the  impression  made  by 
his  words. 

His  personality  was  disagreeably  magnetic 
to  me.  I  had  to  acknowledge  its  power,  and  in 
spite  of  myself  there  were  moments  when  I 
felt  daunted  by  his  defiance. 

Had  he  not  been  very  sure  of  himself  he 
would  not  have  dared  to  say  what  he  had  said. 
I  believed,  as  firmly  as  ever,  that  there  was  a 

117 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

black  spot  in  his  past,  upon  which  I  could  put 
my  finger  if  only  I  could  place  him  in  my 
mental  gallery  of  photographs,  in  which  his 
portrait  had  been  so  mysteriously  blurred  or 
changed.  But  he  and  Karine  Cunningham 
would  in  all  probability  be  man  and  wife  at  the 
end  of  six  weeks ;  and  six  weeks  was,  after  all, 
but  a  short  space  in  which  to  tear  the  mask 
from  so  preternaturally  clever  a  scoundrel. 

I  thought  then  (and  even  yet,  I  trust)  that 
my  resolution  to  save  Karine  from  this  man,  if 
I  were  able  to  do  so,  was  not  all  selfishness. 

Knowing  nothing,  yet  suspecting  much  with 
haunting  vagueness,  it  seemed  a  horrible  dese- 
cration to  me  that  the  beautiful,  gentle  girl 
should  be  given  up  to  Wildred.  I  had  little 
enough  hope  for  myself  with  her,  whatever 
might  betide,  for  even  had  it  been  possible, 
under  happier  circumstances,  that  she  could 
have  learned  to  care  for  me,  she  and  her  friends 
would  be  sure  to  misunderstand  and  condemn 
my  motives  in  working  against  the  man  she 
had  promised  to  marry. 

Should  I  have  the  good  fortune  to  show  him 
118 


KARINE'S    ENGAGEMENT    RING 

to  her  and  those  in  authority  over  her,  as  the 
villain  I  believed  him  to  be,  I  could  not  im- 
agine myself  ever  attempting  to  take  selfish 
advantage  of  his  downfall. 

What  I  might  do,  or  try  to  do,  I  told  myself, 
must  be  without  any  hope  of  future  reward. 

I  had  persuaded  myself  that  the  oftener  I 
could  see  Karine,  and  impress  upon  her  the 
strength  and  disinterestedness  of  my  friend- 
ship, silently  assuring  her  of  my  unforgotten 
resolve  to  help,  the  better  it  would  be  for  her. 
She  had  said  once  that  she  had  "  many  ac- 
quaintances but  no  friends,"  and  she  had 
seemed  glad  to  welcome  my  friendship ;  so  that 
now  I  wanted  her  to  see  I  did  not  mean  to  fail 
her — that,  after  all,  it  might  not  be  as  she  had 
thought,  too  late.  At  least,  I  succeeded  in 
convincing  myself  that  these  were  my  only 
motives  in  calling  again  within  the  week  on 
Lady  Tressidy. 

It  was  Thursday,  and  the  family  was  to  flit 
away  to  the  country  on  the  following  after- 
noon. I  was  informed  of  this  by  the  footman, 
whose  duty  it  was  to  tell  me  that  his  mistress 

119 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

was  superintending  her  packing  at  the  mo- 
ment, but  would  be  down  almost  immediately. 
Meanwhile,  Miss  Cunningham  was  in  Lady 
Tressidy's  boudoir,  and  would  see  me. 

I  could  scarcely  believe  in  my  good  luck,  and 
in  her  courage — or  good  nature. 

She  had  been  writing  at  a  little'  davenport 
by  the  window,  but  rose  to  receive  me,  and  ex- 
tended her  hand.  To  the  other — the  left — she 
had  transferred  the  pen,  with  the  ink  still  wet, 
and  so  it  was  that  as  she  greeted  me  my  eyes 
fell  upon  a  ring  which  had  not  before  adorned 
her  finger. 

It  was  the  third  of  the  left  hand,  and  to  my 
amazement  I  recognised  the  magnificent  dia- 
mond— still  in  the  old  setting — worn  for  so 
many  years  by  Harvey  Farnham. 


120 


CHAPTER   XIII 


HAD  I  paused  for  an  instant's  reflection  I 
must  have  felt  that  it  would  be  impossible  for 
me  to  take  any  open  notice  of  the  ring,  but  so 
great  was  my  surprise  at  seeing  Harvey  Farn- 
ham's  treasured  possession  on  Miss  Cunning- 
ham's finger  that  involuntarily  I  uttered  a 
slight  exclamation. 

Biting  her  lip  she  hastily  withdrew  the  hand, 
dashing  the  pen  she  had  been  holding  with  av 
petulant  little  gesture  on  to  the  desk  where  she 
had  been  writing. 

"  Why  do  you  look  so  astonished,"  she  cried, 
a  certain  bitterness  in  her  voice,  "  at  seeing  me 
wear  the  sign  of  my  bondage?  " 

She  tried  to  laugh  as  she  spoke,  giving  an 
effect  of  lightness  to  the  words,  but  the  effort 
iwas  a  failure. 

I  would  not  let  her  continue  to  think  that 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

she  was  right  in  the  guess  she  had  made  as  to 
my  emotion. 

"  It  was  not  wholly  that,  Miss  Cunning- 
ham," I  returned.  "  Say,  rather  I  was  sur- 
prised at  seeing  you  wear  this  particular  ring." 

"  It  is  a  remarkable  one,  isn't  it?  Far  too 
gorgeous  and  conspicuous  to  please  me,  for 
myself;  but  Mr.  Wildred  was  anxious  for  me 
to  have  it.  I  believe  it  has  been  in  his  family 
a  long  time,  and  has  been  handed  down  from 
generation  to  generation  of  betrothed  brides — 
happier  than  myself."  The  last  three  words 
were  spoken  almost  in  a  whisper,  but  I  heard 
and  understood  them  as  I  would  have  under- 
stood the  faintest  murmur  from  those  lips  so 
dearly  loved. 

Some  dim  awakening  thought,  scarcely  clear 
to  my  own  consciousness,  stirred  in  my  mind  at 
her  strange  announcement.  I  could  not  resist 
further  questioning. 

"  Did  Mr.  Wildred  tell  you  that  the  ring 
was  an  heirloom  in  his  family? " 

'  Yes.    There  is  a  romance  attached  to  it." 

She  sighed  faintly,  as  though  at  the  death 


"  KISMET ' 

of  romance  in  her  own  young  life.  Then,  more 
quickly — 

"  Why,  Mr.  Stanton?  Why  do  you  ask  me 
that?" 

I  could  not  tell  her  why;  but  my  heart  was 
bounding  with  a  new  excitement. 

"Forgive  my  curiosity,"  I  said  evasively. 
"  I  am  interested  in  all  that  concerns  you." 

She  turned  from  me,  ostensibly  to  arrange 
her  scattered  papers  on  the  little  davenport, 
and,  relieved  of  the  thraldom  of  those  lovely 
eyes,  I  endeavoured  to  collect  my  scattered 
thoughts. 

Somehow  I  felt  that  I  was  on  the  eve  of  a 
discovery  which  might  T)e  of  vast  importance  in 
both  our  lives.  How  had  Wildred  obtained 
that  ring  from  Harvey  Farnham?  Why  had 
he  lied  about  it  to  Karine?  That  he  was  a 
villain  and  a  schemer  I  was  sure,  though  I  had 
had  no  possible  means  of  proving  it.  What  if 
this  seemingly  small  matter  should  put  a  clue 
into  my  hands. 

So  clever  a  scoundrel  should  not  have  com- 
mitted himself  to  a  lie  thus  easily  disproved,  I 

123 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

thought.  Only  necessary  lies  were  worth  the 
risk  for  a  man  of  acumen  such  as  his.  But  even 
the  most  crafty  of  mortals  is  fallible,  I  re- 
flected, and  liable  to  make  some  insignificant 
mistake,  which,  like  one  stone  wrongly  placed 
in  the  foundation  of  a  vast  building,  renders 
the  whole  structure  unstable.  Possibly  Wil- 
dred  had  found  a  stealthy  pleasure  in  weaving 
a  pretty  romance  round  the  ring  which  he  had 
chosen  as  the  sign  of  his  betrothal,  and  in 
weaving  it  he  had  forgotten  that  I,  as  an  ac- 
quaintance of  Farnham's,  might  have  been 
conversant  with  its  real  history.  Or,  perhaps, 
he  had  not  counted  upon  the  fact  that  Karine 
might  retell  the  version  he  had  given  her  to  me. 

I  know  how  greatly  Famham  had  valued 
the  marvellous  diamond,  in  its  quaint  setting, 
and  I  remembered  how,  only  on  the  night  of 
our  last  meeting,  he  had  reiterated  to  me  his 
determination  to  keep  it.  It  was  too  small  to 
be  removed  save  by  cutting,  he  had  said,  and  I 
had  satisfied  myself  by  observation  that  he  had 
not  exaggerated. 

He  must,  then,  have  gone  so  far  as  to  have 
124 


"  KISMET ' 

the  ring  cut  from  his  finger  before  sailing  for 
America,  that  he  might  leave  it  as  a  parting 
pledge  of  friendship  with  Carson  Wildred. 

The  rich,  red  gold  circlet  hung  loosely 
enough,  however,  on  Karine's  sum  little  finger, 
and  a  sudden  strong  desire  that  she  should  al- 
low me  to  look  at  it  caught  hold  of  me. 

:<  Would  it  be  asking  too  much,"  I  said,  "  to 
have  the  wonderful  heirloom  in  my  hand  to  ex- 
amine for  a  moment? " 

Without  a  word  she  slipped  the  ring  off  and 
gave  it  to  me,  almost  as  though  it  was  a  relief 
to  feel  its  absence. 

In  a  flash  a  certain  recollection  had  leaped 
into  my  mind.  There  was  an  inscription  inside, 
Harvey  Farnham  had  told  me.  If  the  ring 
had  been  cut  doubtless  the  words  written 
within  would  show  some  trace  of  the  violent 
treatment  to  which  the  band  of  gold  had  been 
subjected;  and  I  wished,  for  a  reason  I  hardly 
dared  admit  to  myself,  to  ascertain  if  this  were 
the  case. 

I  moved  towards  the  window  and,  ostensibly 
catching  the  light  upon  the  facets  of  the  match- 

125 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

less  stone,  peeped  into  the  circlet.  To  my  sur- 
prise the  words  inscribed  on  the  gold  were 
"  Kismet  and  Miss  Cunningham."  They  were 
absolutely  unbroken,  not  a  letter  blurred,  and 
the  surface  of  the  ring  gave  the  appearance 
of  having  been  untouched  since  first  it  was 
fashioned.  I  was  certain  that  it  had  not  been 
cut.  This  being  so,  how  had  the  thing  been 
removed  from  the  finger  of  its  owner? 

"  You  are  wondering  at  the  words  written  in- 
side, aren't  you?  "  Karine  asked,  coming  a  little 
nearer  to  me.  "  It  does  seem  extraordinary 
that  they  should  be  there,  doesn't  it,  when  you 
think  that  the  ring  was  made  many  years  ago, 
and  was  not  intended  for  me  at  all  ?  But — Mr. 
Wildred  has  explained  the  mystery,  which  is 
a  part  of  the  history  of  the  heirloom,  and  ac- 
counts for  his  being  particularly  anxious  for 
me  to  wear  it." 

I,  too,  could  have  explained  the  "  mystery." 
I  had  been  told  by  Farnham  that  the  stone  had 
come  from  the  first  diamond  mine  in  which  he 
had  been  interested.  It  had  been  fancifully 
dubbed  "  Kismet,"  and  the  gold  mine,  which 

126 


'  KISMET ' 

he  had  lately  sold  to  Carson  Wildred,  had  (as 
he  had  informed  me  that  night  of  our  meeting 
at  the  theatre)  rejoiced  in  the  name  of  the 
"  Miss  Cunningham."  Doubtless  the  inscrip- 
tion was  intended  to  commemorate  the  fact 
that  the  gold  forming  the  ring  had  been  taken 
from  the  one  mine,  the  diamond  from  the  other. 
But,  knowing  all  this,  I  was  none  the  less  anx- 
ious to  hear  what  Karine  might  have  to  say. 

"  It  does  sound  an  odd  coincidence,"  I  re- 
marked. "  Will  you  tell  me  the  story?  " 

I  had  a  very  specific  object  in  carrying  on 
this  conversation;  but  as  for  Karine,  I  could 
feel  that  her  part  of  it  was  sustained  merely 

« 

for  the  sake  of  keeping  me  from  treading  upon 
more  dangerous  ground.  Yet  despite  this 
nervous  anxiety  of  hers,  I  could  see — or  I 
flattered  myself — that  she  was  vaguely  sur- 
prised and  piqued  that  I  should  be  willing  to 
discuss  so  trifling  a  subject  during  the  fleeting 
moments  before  Lady  Tressidy  might  be  ex- 
pected to  appear. 

'  You  may  hear  the  little  romance  if  you 
like,"  the  girl  said,  a  faint  wistfulness  in  her 

127 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

sweet  voice.  "  Sixty  or  seventy  years  ago,  Mr. 
Wildred  tells  me,  a  very  dashing  ancestor  of 
his  fell  in  love  with  a  Miss  Cunningham.  That 
is  not  a  very  uncommon  name,  you  know.  He 
was  penniless,  and  she  an  heiress.  Her  father 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  him,  and  told 
him  he  need  not  hope  to  win  his  daughter  un- 
less within  a  year  he  could  afford  to  buy  her 
the  finest  diamond  betrothal  ring  ever  seen  in 
the  country. 

"  The  lover  vowed  it  was  '  Kismet '  that  he 
should  marry  Miss  Cunningham,  and  swore 
to  return  and  claim  her,  by  slipping  such  a  ring 
en  her  finger,  exactly  twelve  months  from  the 
day  he  was  sent  away. 

"  He  had  the  most  extraordinary  adventures 
in  search  of  a  fortune,  always  ending  in  fail- 
ure, until  the  last  month  of  the  appointed  time. 
He  was  in  India,  working  in  the  diamond 
mines,  when  one  day  he  found  this  very  stone. 

"  He  sailed  at  once  for  England,  had  the 
ring  made,  and  the  words  you  see  engraved  in- 
side. As  he  had  said,  he  arrived  on  the  very 
day  appointed,  but  only  to  find  the  girl  com- 

128 


"  KISMET  ': 

ing  out  from  church  after  her  marriage  with 
another  man.  He  threw  the  ring  at  her  feet, 
and  flung  himself  away;  but  at  her  death  it 
was  sent  back  to  him  again,  and  though  he 
never  married,  he  gave  it  to  his  brother's  bride 
on  her  wedding-day.  Since  then  it  has  re- 
mained in  the  Wildred  family." 

I  could  have  laughed  aloud  at  this  senti- 
mental tale  invented  by  the  man  (whom  I  now 
believed  had  somehow  contrived  to  steal  the 
jewel)  to  account  for  the  commonplace  words 
it  would  have  been  difficult  to  erase.  Had  I 
laughed,  however,  my  laughter  would  have 
been  bitter  indeed,  ending  in  an  even  increased 
desire  to  save  from  him  and  his  trickery  the 
girl  I  loved. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  I  did  not  laugh,  but 
something  of  what  was  in  my  mind  must  have 
been  visible  on  my  face,  for  Karine,  as  she 
finished  her  story,  looked  up  at  me  searchingly. 
"What  are  you  hiding  from  me,  Mr.  Stan- 
ton?  "  she  anxiously  questioned.  "  It  is  about 
the  ring — and  if  you  are  my  friend,  as  you 
say,  you  will  not  keep  it  a  secret  from  me." 

129 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

"  It  is  about  the  ring,  Miss  Cunningham," 
I  replied  impulsively.  "  I  can't  tell  you  all, 
for  the  facts  have  hardly  yet  grouped  them- 
selves in  my  own  brain.  But  if  they  have  such 
bearing  upon  your  happiness  as  I  have  some 
reason  to  think,  you  shall  know  them  as  soon 
as  I  can  make  them  clear  to  you.  Will  you 
trust  me  meanwhile — will  you  try  to  remember 
that  I  am  striving  to  collect  facts  which  may 
help  to  release  you  from  the  necessity  for  an 
unworthy  marriage?  Never  for  one  moment 
since  I  saw  you  last  have  I  let  slip  the  hope 
of  saving  you  from  what  you  confessed  must 
be  a  blighted  future.  Now,  I  may  be  mistaken, 
but  I  believe  that  I  begin  to  see  my  way!  " 

She  looked  at  the  ring,  which  I  had  returned 
to  her,  with  startled,  dilating  eyes.  "  Some- 
thing connected  with  this! "  she  murmured. 

'  Yes.  It  is  as  if  I  had  placed  my  eye  to 
that  little  circlet,  looking  through  it  as  through 
a  spyglass  towards  my  goal.  I  shall  work 
after  this,  Miss  Cunningham,  as  I  could  not 
work  before,  because  I  have  now  a  fixed  start- 
ing-point. It  may  be  an  intricate  tangle  that 

130 


'  KISMET  ' 

I  shall  have  to  unravel,  it  may  be  a  tedious  task, 
yet-  -" 

:<  There  are  only  six  weeks — less  than  six 
weeks  to  do  it  in!  "  she  murmured,  but  a  faint 
colour  had  sprung  to  her  cheeks,  a  light  of  hope 
to  her  eyes. 

"  Is  it  not  possible,"  I  begged,  "  if  I  find 
myself  near  success,  yet  stopped  temporarily 
midway  by  some  unforeseen  obstacle,  that  you 
can  delay  your  marriage?  Let  me  have  that 
to  hope  for.  It  will  help  me  to  win." 

She  shook  her  head  sadly,  and  the  rose-flush 
died. 

"  It  is  useless  to  think  of  it,"  she  said.  "  You 
may  imagine,  since  I  have  confessed  so  much 
to  you,  that  it  was  not  my  plan  to  name  such 
an  early  date.  It  was  Mr.  Wildred  who  sug- 
gested it — indeed,  he  insisted,  and  unfortu- 
nately he  is  in  a  position  to  insist." 

"  Has  nothing  changed  since  we  met  at  the 
Savoy? "  I  hurriedly  asked.  "  Can't  you  ex- 
plain to  me  the  power  which  you  admitted  then 
that  this  man  holds  over  you?" 

"  No,  nothing  is  changed,  Mr.  Stanton ! 
131 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

The  reason  that  I  cannot  explain  is — a  part  of 
his  power,  if  you  like  to  call  it  that." 

"Heaven  knows  I  do  not  like  it!"  I  ex- 
claimed, almost  savagely.  And  as  the  words 
fell  from  my  lips  Lady  Tressidy  entered  the 
room.  She  had  finished  superintending  her 
packing,  and  the  sight  of  her  was  a  sudden 
sharp  reminder  that  next  day  she  would  take 
Karine  away. 


132 


CHAPTER   XIV 

AN   EXTRA   SPECIAL 

LADY  TRESSIDY  was  so  full  of  plans  for  the 
future — Karine's  future  with  Carson  Wildred 
— that  my  soul  sickened  of  her  chatter,  and  I 

V*>VW- 

took  myself  off  as  soon  as  it  was  decently  pos- 
sible to  do  so.  With  no  further  chance  of 
private  talk  with  Karine  much  of  my  incentive 
for  remaining  was  gone,  at  all  events,  and  I 
was  anxious  to  think  out  the  puzzle  regarding 
the  transfer  of  the  ring. 

To  recapitulate,  Farnham  had  announced 
his  intention  of  keeping  it  until  the  necessity 
arose  for  having  it  cut  from  his  finger.  Still, 
it  seemed  he  had  not  kept  it,  and  it  had  not  been 
cut  off.  The  conviction  was  strong  within  me 
that  Wildred  had  obtained  the  jewel  by  foul 
play.  Yet  how  could  he  have  done  this,  short 
of  severing  from  the  hand  the  finger  that  had 
worn  it? 

Strange  fancies  flitted  luridly  through  my 
133 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

brain.  In  a  few  days  more  Harvey  Farnham 
would  have  landed  in  New  York,  and  I  could 
reach  him  there  at  the  hotel  he  had  mentioned 
as  his  favourite ;  or  in  Denver,  Colorado,  if  he 
had  chosen  to  pursue  his  homeward  journey 
without  a  night's  delay. 

I  counted  the  hours  which  must  pass  before 
I  could  attempt  any  such  communication,  and 
they  seemed  to  rise  like  a  high  wall  between  me 
and  my  hopes  and  my  suspicions. 

As  I  walked  homeward,  involuntarily  has- 
tening my  footsteps,  I  heard  the  newsboys 
crying  out  some  item  of  intelligence  for  the 
evening  papers.  "  Extry  Speshul !  Extry 
Speshul!"  "Mysterious  Discovery  in  the 
Thames!" 

So  preoccupied  was  I  that  the  words  passed 
into  my  ears  without  making  any  definite  im- 
pression on  my  mind;  or,  if  they  did,  it  was 
the  mere  rhythm  of  the  different  shouting 
voices  that  impressed  itself  upon  me. 

So  often  were  they  repeated  from  all  sides 
as  I  walked  on  that  at  length  the  short  sen- 
tences began  to  form  a  species  of  intoned 

134 


AN   EXTRA    SPECIAL 

accompaniment  to  my  thoughts,  without  as- 
suming a  separate  importance  in  my  conscious- 
ness. 

Suddenly,  however,  a  grimy  infant  of  ten- 
der years  and  appalling  precocity  flourished  a 
pink  sheet,  smelling  of  the  printer's  ink,  di- 
rectly under  my  eyes. 

"Buy  a  paper,  guv-nor!"  he  cajoled  me. 
"  Hall  abeout  the  'orrid  murder  and  the  'ead- 
less  man." 

I  seldom  read  evening  papers,  and  to-night, 
of  all  nights,  I  had  little  inclination  for  such 
irrelevant  mental  diet.  But  I  flung  the  child 
a  copper,  and  found  the  halfpenny  journal 
thrust  into  my  hand. 

I  would  have  tossed  it  from  me  carelessly, 
but  the  headlines  relating  to  the  latest  sensa- 
tion caught  my  eye. 

Then,  forgetful  of  the  crowds  who  stared 
at  me  in  my  agitation,  I  strode  nearer  to  the 
white  ball  of  electric  light  which  had  shone 
down  upon  the  page. 


135 


CHAPTER   XV 

rA  MYSTERY   OF  THE   THAMES 

IT  was  the  name,  Purley  Lock,  which  had 
fastened  my  attention.  "  Horrible  Discovery 
near  Purley  Lock!"  the  headline  announced. 
I  read  on,  rapidly,  but  thoughtfully.  Two 
boys  from  Great  Marlow  had,  it  seemed,  been 
wandering  beside  the  river  bank,  between  that 
village  and  Purley  Lock.  Straying  along  a 
small  backwater,  leading  out  from  a  larger 
one,  they  had  noticed  a  peculiar  object  caught 
among  a  number  of  reeds.  One  of  the  boys 
had  curiously  poked  at  it  with  his  stick, 
bringing  it  nearer  to  the  shore,  when  it 
appeared  to  be  a  heavy,  almost  formless, 
mass  sewn  up  in  a  rough  sack.  The  boys,  be- 
ing frightened,  had  run  home  with  their  story, 
and  a  member  of  the  local  police  force,  going 
to  the  spot,  had  found  the  children's  suspicions 
confirmed.  The  unclothed  body  of  a  man, 
partially  consumed  by  fire  and  lacking  the 

136 


MYSTERY   OF    THE    THAMES 

head,  as  well  as  otherwise  mutilated  in  a  seem- 
ingly aimless  way,  had  been  doubled  up  and 
sewn  in  the  sack.  Weights  had  evidently  been 
attached  to  the  horrible  bundle,  but  had  in 
some  manner  become  detached.  So  far  no 
clue  whatever,  either  as  to  the  identity  of  the 
murdered  man,  or  that  of  the  murderer,  had 
been  brought  to  light.  The  body  had  been  in 
the  water  for  some  days,  but  might  still  have 
been  recognisable  had  the  head  not  been  re- 
moved. 

The  horror  of  my  dream  on  Christmas  Eve 
came  back  to  me  as  I  read.  No  doubt  there 
had  been  many  river  mysteries  and  "  shocking 
discoveries  "  in  the  Thames,  and  perhaps  I  had 
read  of  them,  dismissing  them  from  my  mind 
with  the  alacrity  with  which  one  does  rid  one's 
thoughts  of  such  sordid  tragedies,  when  they 
do  not  happen  to  concern  oneself  or  one's  ac- 
quaintances. But  this  tragedy  I  could  not  so 
dismiss. 

I  could  even  picture  the  very  spot  where  the 
boys  must  have  seen  the  sack  caught  among 
the  dry  and  rattling  reeds.  "  A  small  back- 

137 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

water  leading  out  of  a  larger  one,  between 
Great  Marlow  and  Purley  Lock."  The  larger 
one  was  doubtless  that  on  which  Carson  Wil- 
dred's  house  was  situated;  the  smaller  one — a 
mere  alley  of  water,  leading  away  under  a 
drooping  tangle  of  willow  and  chestnut 
branches — one  had  to  pass  in  walking  from 
Purley  to  the  House  by  the  Lock.  I  was  sure, 
as  I  recalled  the  place  in  memory,  that  the 
scene  of  the  discovered  mystery  could  have 
been  no  other  than  this. 

Having  read  to  the  end,  I  folded  up  the 
paper  and  put  it  away  in  a  pocket  of  my  great- 
coat for  future  reference.  Then  I  began 
walking  slowly  on  towards  the  Savoy  Hotel. 

Had  it  not  been  for  the  odd  chance  which 
had  induced  two  boys  to  stroll,  in  the  middle 
of  winter,  along  the  bank  of  an  insignificant 
outlet  of  a  Thames  backwater,  what  a  fine 
place,  I  told  myself,  this  would  have  been  for 
the  concealment  of  a  crime !  Even  without  the 
weights,  which  had  probably  become  detached 
from  the  sack  by  tangling  among  the  roots 
under  the  surface  of  the  water,  the  body  might 

138 


MYSTERY   OF    THE    THAMES 

have  been  expected  to  remain  hidden  for 
months — at  least,  till  the  coming  of  the  spring. 

Then,  as  I  so  reflected,  my  mind  turned  to 
darker  thoughts.  Had  a  crime  been  com- 
mitted by  the  inhabitants  of  the  House  by  the 
Lock,  what  a  convenient  hiding-place  would 
that  adjacent  waterway  have  been!  I  had 
no  reason  to  fancy  that  such  a  crime  had  been 
done,  and  yet — my  thoughts  went  back  to  the 
day  on  which  I  paid  my  somewhat  memorable 
visit  to  Wildred  and  Farnham. 

Suddenly  came  the  recollection  of  the  awful 
cry  I  had  heard  as  I  waited  in  the  curious  oc- 
tagonal room,  looking  at  the  covered  portrait 
of  Karine.  The  sound  had  been  explained, 
but  there  had  been  a  certain  flurry  and  clumsi- 
ness in  the  explanation,  I  had  thought,  even 
then. 

I  remembered  the  smoke  and  sparks  which 
had  so  mysteriously  risen  from  the  tower,  and 
the  heat  of  the  octagonal  room  adjoining  it. 
All  this,  too,  had  been  accounted  for.  I  had 
not  cared  at  the  time  to  invent  romances  to  fit 
into  the  strange  appearances,  which  I  had  as- 

139 


THE    HOUSE    BY  THE    LOCK 

sured  myself  were  doubtless  strange  only  in 
appearance ;  but  now  I  could  not  help  dwelling 
upon  them  with  an  almost  morbid  persistency 
that  would  not  be  set  aside. 

I  thought  of  the  woman's  face  which  had  for 
an  instant  gazed  at  me  through  the  narrow 
window  beside  the  door.  I  reminded  myself 
of  the  surprise  on  the  features  of  the  decorous 
male  factotum  when  he  had  learned  that  I  was 
not  the  man  expected  by  his  master,  and  I 
went  over  word  for  word,  as  nearly  as  I  could, 
each  sentence  whispered  by  Wildred  and  his 
servant  in  the  hall. 

What  if  there  were  some  ghastly  connection 
between  the  apparent  mystery  in  the  House 
by  the  Lock  and  the  half -charred,  headless 
body  found  to-day  in  the  Thames! 

I  was  ready  to  accuse  my  own  enmity  to- 
wards Wildred,  and  my  vague  suspicions  of 
him,  also  my  merciless  desire  to  fasten  some 
stigma  upon  the  man,  of  being  potent  factors 
in  these  mental  suggestions  of  mine. 

But  I  could  not  banish  them  even  if  I  would. 
Continually  throughout  the  remainder  of  the 

140 


MYSTERY   OF    THE    THAMES 

evening  and  night  I  pieced  together  various 
theories,  all  more  or  less  defective,  and  next 
morning  the  desire  was  strong  within  me  to  go 
and  see  the  headless  corpse. 

There  were  at  least  twenty  chances  to  one 
against  my  being  able  to  identify  it,  or  finding 
in  the  pitiful  remains  of  a  tragedy  any  clue 
such  as  I  sought.  But  strange  fancies  steeped 
my  brain  with  their  potent  fumes,  and  I  knew 
that  I  should  not  be  able  to  rest  until,  at  least, 
I  had  absolutely  proved  myself  mistaken. 

Permission  to  view  the  body  at  the  mortuary 
was  easily  obtained  at  the  local  police  station, 
when  I  had  given  my  name,  and  mentioned 
that  I  had  come  for  purposes  of  identification. 

Fortunately  for  my  self-control,  I  had 
looked  upon  many  a  gruesome  sight  during  my 
somewhat  chequered  career,  though  scarcely 
one  more  hideous  than  this  which  I  had  de- 
liberately sought. 

It  would  be  worse  than  useless  to  enter  into 
a  detailed  description  of  what  my  eyes  turned 
from  with  loathing.  There  was  only  one  pos- 
sible way  of  identification,  however,  that  of 

141 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

finding  some  mark  upon  the  partially  charred 
body,  or  something  lacking  which  might  be 
suggestive  of  a  theory. 

I  had  a  theory,  which  as  yet  I  had  scarcely 
dared  dwell  upon  in  my  own  mind,  so  wild,  so 
improbable  did  it  appear  at  any  other  time  than 
dead  of  night,  when  all  strange  things  seem 
possible.  But  now,  as  I  judged  what  the 
height  and  size  of  the  body  must  have  been, 
and  let  my  glance  travel  almost  fearfully  to 
the  left  hand,  I  saw  that  which  tended  in  a 
ghastly  manner  to  confirm  it.  All  the  four 
fingers  were  missing,  having  been  cut  off  be- 
tween the  second  joint  and  knuckles. 

Harvey  Farnham  had  worn  the  ring  given 
to  Karine  Cunningham  by  Wildred  on  the 
little  finger  of  the  left  hand;  and  in  the  light 
of  this  discovery  my  dream  of  Christmas  Eve 
came  back  to  me  as  a  prophetic  vision. 


142 


CHAPTER   XVI 

INFORMATION   LAID   BY   CARSON    WILDRED 

THE  case  being  one  of  great  local  impor- 
tance, having  thrown  the  countryside  into  a 
whirl  of  excitement,  the  inspector  himself  had 
thought  it  worth  while  to  accompany  me  on  my 
journey  to  the  mortuary.  My  name  was  fa- 
miliar to  him,  he  said,  with  a  look  of  interest 
and  curiosity  in  his  eyes;  and  this  being  so, 
doubtless  he  had  not  been  averse  to  the  chance 
of  keeping  watch  upon  me  when  I  went  to 
gaze  upon  the  body  of  the  mysteriously  mur- 
dered man. 

If  he  were  interested  in  me,  I  was,  at  least, 
equally  interested  in  him,  or  rather  in  the 
opinions  which  he  and  brother  members  of  the 
police  force  might  have  formed. 

Reticence  was,  of  course,  supposed  to  be  ob- 
served by  so  important  a  functionary  as  the 
inspector,  but  I  saw  that  in  his  round,  good- 

143 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

natured  face  which  caused  me  to  hope  he 
might  be  amenable  to  a  little  judiciously  ap- 
plied flattery.  I  therefore  extolled  the  ar- 
rangements of  the  local  authorities,  and  ended 
by  saying  that,  as  the  sight  I  had  just  wit- 
nessed had  considerably  upset  me,  I  should  be 
glad  if  he  would  do  me  the  favour  of  having 
something  with  me  at  the  private  bar  of  the 
adjacent  inn. 

'  Well,  sir,  it's  against  the  rules,  you  know," 
he  said,  smiling  sapiently.  "  But  I  certainly 
consider  it  an  honour  to  be  invited  by  so  cele- 
brated a  gentleman  as  you,  Mr.  Stanton.  And 
— if  you'll  go  first,  sir,  I'll  just  look  in  a  little 
later  and  find  you  at  the  private  bar." 

I  followed  the  prudent  suggestion,  and  was 
presently  joined  by  the  inspector,  who  ap- 
peared relieved  at  rinding  himself  shut  in  and 
alone  with  me. 

We  had  whisky  and  soda  ad  libitum,  and 
then  I  cautiously  began :  "  The  fact  is,  inspec- 
tor," I  said,  "  I  was  particularly  anxious  for 
this  chance  of  a  little  friendly  chat  with  you. 
I  have  certain  suspicions  which  may  be,  of 

144 


INFORMATION    BY   WILDRED 

course,  without  a  grain  of  foundation.  What 
I  mean  to  say  is,  I  have  grave  fears  that  the 
murdered  man  is  the  friend  I  thought  it  pos- 
sible I  might  identify.  Who  the  murderer 
may  be  in  any  case  remains  to  be  seen,  but  if 
the  body  is  that  of  the  person  I  have  in  my 
mind,  I  might  be  able  to  put  a  clue  into  the 
hands  of  the  police.  '  A  word  to  the  wise,'  you 
know,  inspector!  But  first  I  am  hoping  for 
a  little  help  from  you  before  I  run  the  risk  of 
incriminating  one  who  may  be  innocent.  Quite 
between  ourselves,  allow  me  to  ask  what  your 
police  surgeon  has  had  to  say  regarding  his 
examination? " 

The  inspector  looked  dubious,  then  bright- 
ened visibly.  '  You  being  the  man  you  are, 
Mr.  Stanton,"  he  said,  sociably,  over  his  third 
glass  of  old  Scotch,  "  I  can't  see  that  there'd 
be  anything  amiss  in  my  answering  you  so  far. 
Our  surgeon,  Mr.  Potter,  reported  that  the 
corpse  was  that  of  a  well-nourished  man  of 
somewhere  between  forty  and  forty-five  years 
of  age,  all  the  organs  healthy,  though  there 
were  traces  of  opium  in  the  system — not,  how- 

145 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

ever,  enough  to  have  caused  death.  The  head 
had  been  severed  from  the  neck  by  a  skilled 
anatomist,  who  knew  exactly  where  to  strike; 
but  it  had  been  separated  after  death,  not  be- 
fore. Also  the  mutilation  of  the  left  hand 
had  been  done  in  the  same  way.  I  suppose 
that  is  roughly  the  sort  of  thing  you  wanted  to 
know? " 

"  Exactly,"  I  returned,  "  and  every  detail 
you  have  mentioned  goes  to  strengthen  my  sus- 
picions. Being  an  amateur,  I  was  obliged  to 
judge  principally  by  size  and  height.  The  sur- 
geon's report  fits  in  with  my  theory  precisely. 
Still,  it  does  not  comprise  everything.  It 
would  be  a  great  assistance  if  I  might  know 
whether  the  police  have  yet  had  any  reliable  in- 
formation to  work  upon." 

We  had  grown  very  friendly,  indeed,  almost 
fraternal  now,  and  the  inspector  kindly  al- 
lowed me  to  refill  his  glass.  "  Do  you  know 
who  Mr.  Carson  Wildred,  of  the  House  by  the 
Lock,  is,  Mr.  Stanton? "  he  enquired,  confi- 
dentially. 

The  question  surprised  and  excited  me. 
146 


INFORMATION   BY   WILDRED 

Was  it  possible,  I  hastily  asked  myself,  that 
already  the  police  were  on  the  same  track  that 
I  was  following?  If  so,  Wildred  must  have 
shown  himself  a  less  impenetrable  villain  than 
I  had  had  reason  to  suppose  him. 

'  Yes,  I  not  only  know  who  he  is,  but  have 
a  slight  personal  acquaintance  with  him,"  I 
said  conservatively. 

"  Well,  sir  " — slowly,  and  with  some  unc- 
tion— "  Mr.  Wildred  has  been  the  only  one  so 
far — not  counting  what  you  yourself  may 
have  to  say  presently — who  has  given  any  in- 
formation of  value." 

"Indeed?  He  has  given  information?"  I 
could  not  eliminate  the  astonishment,  and  per- 
haps something  of  the  disappointment,  from 
my  voice. 

'  Yes,  sir.  As  you  know  Mr.  Wildred, 
you're  probably  aware  that  his  country  house 
is  close  by  our  town,  and  close,  too,  to  the  spot 
where  the  body  was  found.  He  was  in  yester- 
day evening,  as  soon  as  the  matter  had  got 
noised  about,  and  asked  to  see  the  body." 

"  Incredible !  "  The  word  sprang  to  my  lips, 
147 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

but  I  forced  it  back,  and  refrained  from  ut- 
tering it. 

"  He  was  unable  to  identify  it,  but  he  spoke 
to  having  seen  something  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  small  backwater  not  far  from  his 
house,  just  before  Christmas,  which  seemed 
likely  to  throw  light  on  the  matter.  The  sur- 
geon's idea  is,  as  I  think  I  forgot  to  mention, 
sir,  that  the  body  had  been  in  the  water  since 
Christmas  time,  or  thereabouts,  which  made 
Mr.  Wildred's  supposition  the  more  feasible. 

"  It  seems  that  the  gentleman  had  a  friend 
staying  with  him  at  the  House  by  the  Lock 
until  a  week  or  so  ago — a  Mr.  Farnham,  an 
American — who  has  since  sailed  for  home. 
They  were  in  the  habit  of  taking  a  daily  walk 
together,  whenever  they  were  not  in  town,  and 
a  week  before  Christmas  noticed  that  close  to 
the  little  backwater  two  men  were  living  in  a 
tent. 

"  It  was  a  quiet  place  enough  in  winter 
time,  and  the  fellows  might  have  expected  to 
escape  observation,  perhaps,  but  it  was  the 
smell  of  their  smoke  which  first  attracted  Mr. 

148 


Wildred  and  his  friend  to  the  spot,  and  as  it 
was  his  land  Mr.  Wildred  at  first  was  inclined 
to  order  the  chaps  away.  He  thought  better 
of  it,  though,  as  he  seems  a  good-natured  gen- 
tleman, and  said  it  didn't  really  matter  to  him 
whether  they  stayed  or  went.  A  strict  watch 
was  kept  on  all  the  locks  up  at  the  house,  how- 
ever, as  it  occurred  to  Mr.  Wildred  the  men 
might  have  some  queer  design.  A  day  or  two 
went  by,  and  the  tent  was  still  there,  but  on 
Christmas,  when  Mr.  Wildred  and  Mr.  Farn- 
ham  were  walking  out,  they  heard  the  sound 
of  loud  voices,  and  went  near  enough  to  see 
that  the  two  men  were  quarrelling  outside. 

"  He  says  he  wishes  now  he  had  interfered, 
but  it  didn't  seem  worth  while  at  the  time. 
That  night  there  was  an  unpleasant  smell  of 
burning*  which  came  up  to  the  House  by  the 
Lock,  with  the  wind  from  that  quarter,  and 
was  noticed  by  all  the  servants,  as  well  as  Mr. 
Wildred,  who  asked  the  butler  about  it  at  din- 
ner. Next  day,  when  Mr.  Wildred  sent  down 
to  find  out,  the  tent  and  the  men  were  both 
gone." 

149 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

"  I  suppose,"  I  said,  "  that  you  have  already 
taken  means  to  ascertain  whether  there  are  any 
remaining  traces  of  such  an  encampment  by 
the  backwater?  " 

"  Certainly  we  have.  That  was  done  im- 
mediately, sir,  and  the  ashes  left  by  a  big  wood 
fire  were  found  close  to  the  water;  also  four 
rough  stakes  for  the  tent  ropes,  and — a  coal 
sack — much  of  the  sort  in  which  the  body  up 
there  at  the  mortuary  was  sewn.  There  was 
something  else,  too,  sir.  I  wouldn't  mention 
it  thus  early  in  the  proceedings  to  anybody  for 
whom  I  hadn't  the  respect  I  have  for  you;  but 
even  as  it  is,  I  must  have  your  promise  it 
shan't  go  any  further  till  it  comes  out  in  the 
proper  course  of  events." 

I  gave  him  my  promise,  hiding  my  impa- 
tience as  best  I  could. 

"Well,  Mr.  Stanton,"  the  inspector  went 
on,  lowering  his  voice,  though  there  was  no- 
body within  earshot,  "  in  the  wood  ashes  was 
found  what  looks  like  a  most  important  clue. 
Nothing  less,  sir,  than  the  calcined  bones  of 
four  human  fingers,  cut  from  the  left  hand!" 

150 


INFORMATION    BY   WILDRED 

"By  Jove!"  I  ejaculated  involuntarily, 
springing  to  my  feet,  and  beginning  to  walk 
nervously  up  and  down.  I  hardly  knew 
whether  to  feel  that  I  had  been  brought  to  a 
dead  stop  in  my  operations  and  suspicions,  or 
to  tell  myself  that  Carson  Wildred  was  the 
most  cold-blooded,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the 
cleverest  scoundrel  who  had  ever  walked 
the  earth. 


151 


CHAPTER   XVII 

A  DISAPPOINTMENT 

'  You  seem  surprised,  Mr.  Stanton ! "  ex- 
claimed the  inspector. 

"  I  am  surprised,"  I  echoed,  "  and  I  intend 
to  explain  why  presently.  Meanwhile,  I  sup- 
pose you  are  trying  to  get  on  the  track  of  the 
second  man  who  lived  in  that  tent? " 

"  That's  what  we  are  doing,  sir — hard  at  it." 

"  You  will  never  find  him,"  I  said. 

"  No,  sir?  May  I  ask  what  makes  you  so 
sure  of  that?" 

"  Simply  because  my  opinion  is  that  he  does 
not  exist — never  did  exist." 

The  inspector's  jaw  dropped.     "  But — but 

Mr.  Carson  Wildred "  he  began,  when  I 

turned  on  him  and  cut  him  short. 

"Did  your  experience  never  show  you  a  case 
where  a  man,  himself  a  criminal,  invented 
proofs  and  clues  for  the  purpose  of  putting  the 
police  upon  the  wrong  track?  " 

152 


A  DISAPPOINTMENT 

He  too  started  from  his  chair,  forgetting  to 
set  down  his  glass  of  whisky.  "  Good  heavens, 
sir,  you  don't  mean  to  accuse " 

"  I  don't  accuse.  I  am  not  yet  in  a  position 
to  do  that.  I  only  suggest,  and  should  be  my- 
self a  criminal  if  I  did  not  try  to  throw  such 
light  upon  the  matter  as  I  can.  Sit  down 
again,  inspector,  and  let  me  tell  you  what  I 
know,  and  what  I  suspect." 

He  sat,  or  rather  dropped  into  his  lately- 
deserted  chair,  and  his  horrified  expression,  his 
drooping  attitude,  went  far  towards  showing 
me  what  an  exalted  position  Carson  Wildred 
occupied  in  the  esteem  of  the  neighbourhood. 

"  I  ean't  seem  to  realise  it,  Mr.  Stanton," 
ejaculated  the  inspector.  "  Such  a  man  as 
Mr.  Wildred!  So  respected,  so  charitable,  has 
given  so  much  to  the  church  1  Why,  you  must 
be  making  a  mistake." 

'You  shall  judge  for  yourself  whether  I 
have  any  evidence  to  offer  worth  building 
upon,"  I  returned.  And  then  I  told  him  every- 
thing, beginning  with  my  chance  meeting  with 
Harvey  Farnham  at  the  theatre  on  Christmas 

153 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

Eve.  His  face  grew  graver  and  graver  as  I 
went  on,  and  when  at  last  (having  dwelt  with 
due  insistence  upon  the  mysterious  proceedings 
attending  my  call  at  the  House  by  the  Lock)  I 
mentioned  the  reappearance  of  the  ring  on  "  a 
young  lady's  finger,"  he  shook  his  head  regret- 
fully. 

'  You've  made  out  a  fairly  good  case  against 
Mr.  Wildred,  sir,"  he  observed.  "  Would  it 
be  indiscreet  to  ask  whether  you've  any  per- 
sonal enmity  against  the  gentleman?" 

"  I  don't  like  him,"  I  admitted.  And  then 
I  went  on  to  describe  in  a  few  words  my  haunt- 
ing impression  of  having  been  disagreeably 
associated  with  him  in  the  past. 

"  I  would  wish,"  I  added  hurriedly,  "  to  keep 
the  name  of  the  lady  now  in  possession  of  the 
ring  entirely  out  of  the  question  if  'possible. 
It  must  only  be  brought  in,  inspector,  at  the 
last  extremity  should  no  other  means  remain  of 
detecting  a  murderer.  As  for  the  ring  itself, 
to  save  trouble  in  that  direction,  I  think  I  could 
if  necessary  engage  to  get  hold  of  it,  and  I  am 
quite  ready  at  any  time  to  swear  to  its  identity 

154 


A  DISAPPOINTMENT 

with  the  one  worn  by  my  old  friend  Farn- 
ham." 

The  inspector  thoughtfully  scratched  his 
head.  "  It'll  be  a  nasty  business  to  examine 
Mr.  Wildred's  house,  in  case  your  friend  Mr. 
Farnham  should  prove  to  be  all  right  over  in 
the  States.  But  we  can't  lose  any  time. 
What  you've  told  me  to-day  is  very  serious,  sir, 
and  must  be  attended  to  at  once.  A  couple  of 
detectives  will  call  at  the  House  by  the  Lock 
with  a  search-warrant  before  nightfall.  I  can 
assure  you  of  that.  Until  some  definite  con- 
clusion is  arrived  at,  Mr.  Stanton,  I  suppose 
you  would  prefer  that  your  name  didn't  appear 
in  the  matter?  " 

"  I  don't  care  a  hang  whether  it  appears  or 
not,"  I  retorted  recklessly.  Perhaps  if  I  had 
been  a  little  less  reckless — but  it  is  never  profit- 
able to  dwell  on  and  brood  over  the  mistakes  of 
one's  past. 

The  inspector  assured  me  that  a  detective 
should  call  that  night  at  the  hotel  in  Great 
Marlow  where  I  had  volunteered  to  remain, 
and  give  me  all  particulars  concerning  the  ex- 

155 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

animation  of  the  House  by  the  Lock.  The 
appointment  made  was  for  eight  o'clock,  by 
which  time,  allowing  for  obstacles  and  unfore- 
seen delays,  all  was  sure  to  be  well  over. 

Though  the  inspector  had  promised  that  the 
New  York  police  should  be  communicated 
with,  a  great  restlessness  was  upon  me,  and  I 
resolved  myself  to  cable  to  America. 

It  was  possible  that  the  St.  Paul,  the  ship  in 
which  Farnham  had  been  supposed  to  sail,  was 
arriving  at  New  York  that  day,  though  the 
chances  were,  as  the  weather  had  been  rough, 
that  she  would  not  have  made  one  of  her  rec- 
ord trips.  However,  there  could  be  no  harm 
in  wiring,  and  if  the  ship  had  got  in  all  waste 
of  time  would  be  avoided. 

I  wrote  out  a  despatch  to  the  office  of  the 
American  line  in  New  York,  to  be  answered 
(reply  prepaid)  the  moment  the  St.  Paul  got 
in.  In  this  I  enquired  whether  Mr.  Harvey 
Farnham,  of  Denver,  Colorado,  had  been 
among  the  passengers.  And  not  contenting 
myself  with  this  I  cabled  Farnham,  both  to 
Denver  and  New  York,  and  to  the  manager 

156 


A  DISAPPOINTMENT 

of  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel  in  the  latter  place, 
where  I  had  been  told  that  he  usually  put  up. 

The  answers  to  these  messages  I  requested 
to  have  sent  me  at  the  hotel  I  had  chosen  for 
my  headquarters  in  Great  Marlow. 

The  hours  which  must  intervene  before  I 
could  possibly  hope  for  a  return  I  spent  at  the 
Wayfarers',  and  there  I  heard  of  Wildred,  who 
had  lunched  at  the  club  with  his  friend  Wig- 
ram,  and  later  had  been  interrupted  during  a 
game  of  billiards  by  a  telegram.  He  had  used 
some  strong  language,  and  hurriedly  excusing 
himself,  had  left  in  the  midst  of  the  game. 

Things  had  evidently  been  put  into  train 
early,  I  told  myself  with  satisfaction,  and  I 
concluded  that  the  despatch  had  either  gone  out 
from  police  headquarters  or  been  sent  by  that 
stealthy-faced,  invaluable  major-domo  of 
Wildred's. 

By  half -past  five  I  was  in  the  train  again, 
carrying  with  me  all  that  I  could  want  for  the 
stay  of  a  day  or  two  in  a  strange  hotel,  and 
before  eight  o'clock  I  had  dined  and  was 
anxiously  awaiting  the  appearance  of  the 

157 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

detective.  I  had  hardly  dared  to  hope  as  yet  for 
any  answer  to  my  cablegrams,  still  I  was  disap- 
pointed to  find  upon  my  advent  in  Great  Mar- 
low  that  nothing  had  arrived. 

Every  step  along  the  corridor  outside  the 
private  sitting-room  I  had  taken  made  me  start 
like  a  nervous  woman,  fancying  each  time  that 
a  knock  on  my  door  might  follow  and  the 
wished-for  message  be  handed  in  to  me. 

I  did  not  believe  that  I  should  hear  from 
Farnham,  because  my  conviction  was  steadily 
growing  that  his  murdered  body  lay  unidenti- 
fied in  the  mortuary  not  far  away.  But  I  did 
expect  to  hear  from  the  ship's  company  to  the 
effect  that  no  such  passenger  had  been  on 
board  the  St.  Paul.  Should  this  intelligence 
arrive,  there  would  be  so  great  an  increase  of 
the  circumstantial  evidence  against  Wildred 
that  I  believed  the  police  would  be  justified  in 
making  an  arrest.  Wildred  once  arrested  and 
obliged  to  stand  his  trial  for  the  crime  of  mur- 
der, Karine  Cunningham  would  be  saved. 

Eight  o'clock  struck,  however,  and  I  was  re- 
luctantly obliged  to  give  up  all  idea  of  receiv- 

158 


A  DISAPPOINTMENT 

ing  any  news  from  America  for  the  night. 
Five  minutes  later,  as  I  restlessly  paced  the 
room,  the  wished-f  or  knock  sounded,  but  there 
was  no  cablegram  to  be  presented  on  a  tray.  A 
young,  fresh- faced  man  in  plain  clothing  stood 
there,  who  I  knew  before  he  spoke  must  be  the 
expected  detective.  His  information  might 
prove  of  equal  importance  with  the  tidings 
from  America,  and  I  received  him  cordially. 

With  his  first  words,  however,  my  heart  went 
down  like  lead.  It  was  not  that  I  was  eager 
to  see  a  presumably  innocent  man  proved  a 
murderer  for  the  sake  of  my  own  selfish  ends, 
but  thoroughly  believing  Wildred  to  be  a  con- 
summate scoundrel,  I  was  anxious  that  he 
should  be  found  out  in  time  to  prevent  disaster. 

"  I  think  sir,"  said  the  young  man  of  the 
cheerful  countenance,  "  that  we've  been  on  a 
false  scent  to-day." 

I  got  him  to  sit  down,  and  launched  him 
upon  the  full  tide  of  narrative. 

"  Mr.  Wildred  was  away  when  we  first  ar- 
rived at  the  House  by  the  Lock,  sir,"  he  went 
on.  "but  we  should  have  made  use  of  our 

159 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

search-warrant  without  waiting  for  his  return 
had  not  the  passage  and  the  octagonal  room 
you  described,  as  well  as  the  tower,  been  shut 
off  from  all  communication  with  the  older  part 
of  the  house  by  a  heavy  iron  door,  of  which 
Mr.  Wildred  invariably  carries  the  key.  This 
his  butler  explained  by  saying  that  the  door  had 
been  placed  on  account  of  his  master's  chemi- 
cal experiments,  which  were  sometimes  of  a 
slightly  dangerous  character,  unless  great  pre- 
cautions were  used,  and  in  case  of  an  explosion 
or  other  accident  the  safety  of  the  living-rooms 
might  be  assured  by  means  of  the  iron  door. 
The  only  way  of  opening  it  would  have  been  to 
employ  dynamite,  the  lock  being  impregnable; 
and  as  the  grounds  for  suspicion  against  Mr. 
Wildred  were  not  yet  strong  enough  to  resort 
to  such  violent  means,  there  was  nothing  to  do 
but  wait.  He  was  wired  for  to  London  at 


once." 


"Naturally  he  would  prefer  being  on  the 
spot,"  I  said,  with  something  like  a  sneer.  "All 
the  same,  I  am  very  sure  that  there  is  another 
means  of  communicating  with  the  octagonal 

160 


A  DISAPPOINTMENT 

room  and  the  tower  besides  the  main  door 
through  the  passage."  And  I  mentioned  the 
mysterious  disappearance  of  the  servant,  which 
had  on  Christmas  Day  led  me  to  believe  in  the 
existence  of  a  secret  way  of  exit. 

"  We  did  look  about  for  something  of  the 
sort,  and  even  went  down  a  cellar,"  said  the 
detective,  "but  saw  not  the  slightest  sign  to 
suggest  a  hidden  door." 

"  Well,  go  on  then  to  Mr.  Wildred's  re- 
turn," I  exclaimed  impatiently.  "  I  am  anx- 
ious to  learn  why  it  has  been  decided  that  I 
put  you  on  the  wrong  track." 

"When  he  came  home  he  admitted  very 
frankly  that  he  had  been  annoyed  at  the  bother 
occasioned  by  our  telegram,  but  appeared  by 
that  time  to  have  recovered  from  his  vexation, 
and  to  be  inclined  to  laugh  the  matter  off.  He 
let  us  know  in  a  moment  that  he  guessed  how 
the  information  had  come,  but  we  said  nothing, 
of  course,  to  confirm  his  suppositions. 

"  In  the  first  place  he  opened  the  iron  door, 
explained  its  workings  as  though  he  took  some 
pride  in  its  mechanism,  which  he  said  he  had 

161 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE    LOCK 

invented  himself.  Then  he  showed  us  into  the 
octagonal  room,  which  he  had  had  fitted  up  as 
a  studio  and  smoking-room  combined.  The 
little  door  you  had  seen  behind  the  drapery 
merely  led  into  a  cupboard  containing  boots, 
an  artist's  model — a  jointed  figure  of  wood — 
and  other  odds  and  ends.  It  was  concealed 
only  because  it  was  not  *  an  object  of  beauty/ 
Mr.  Wildred  said. 

"  We  then  proceeded  to  the  tower,  where  the 
chemical  experiments  are  made.  There  is  a 
small  room,  reached  by  mounting  a  winding 
skeleton  stairway  of  iron,  and  there  we  were 
shown  Mr.  Wildred's  apparatus.  I  know 
something  of  chemistry  myself,  having  had  a 
fad  that  way  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  I  could  see 
that  everything  he  had  was  straight  and  above- 
board.  A  big  fireplace  in  the  room  accounts  for 
the  sparks  you  saw  when  you  approached  the 
house  that  day,  and  Mr.  Wildred  voluntarily 
mentioned  that  there  had  been  something 
wrong  with  the  flues,  so  that  his  experiments 
could  not  be  conducted  properly,  and  he  had 
sent  for  an  expert  to  come  down  from  London 

162 


A  DISAPPOINTMENT 

to  look  at  everything.  The  man  had  been  ex- 
pected on  Christmas  Eve,  then  on  Christmas,  as 
Mr.  Wildred  considered  the  matter  urgent,  and 
finally  arrived  the  day  after.  Mr.  Wildred 
gave  us  his  address  without  waiting  to  be  asked 
to  do  so.  That  accounted  for  one  more  point 
in  your  story,  sir — the  man  who  was  so  anx- 
iously looked  for,  the  man  the  butler  seemed 
at  first  to  take  you  to  be. 

;*  We  then  said  we  had  been  informed  that 
screams  or  groans  had  been  heard  issuing  from 
his  house  on  Christmas  Day.  Mr.  Wildred 
laughed,  remarking  that,  judging  from  what 
he  knew  of  our  informant,  he  had  been  waiting 
for  us  to  come  to  that  point. 

"  And  he  repeated  the  explanation  which 
had  been  given  you,  asking  us  also  if  we  would 
care  to  see  the  scar  (which  was  not  yet  quite 
healed)  made  by  the  burning  methylated  spirit 
on  the  cook's  foot  or  ankle. 

'  We  thought  it  best  to  do  as  he  suggested — 
indeed,  if  he  had  not,  we  should  have  proposed 
the  same  course  ourselves,  for  the  sake  of  mak- 
ing assurance  doubly  sure.  The  cook  was  sent 

163 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

for,  a  very  handsome  young  woman,  sir,  bright 
and  ready  with  her  answers.  She  described 
the  accident,  and  whipping  off  the  shoe  and 
stocking  from  the  right  foot,  showed  us  a  red 
mark  which  spread  from  the  ankle  down  over 
the  whole  instep." 

"  So  the  cook  was  a  handsome  young  woman, 
was  she?  "  I  asked,  suspiciously,  remembering 
the  face  which  had  peered  at  me  through  the 
narrow  window  by  the  door.  "  Had  she  great 
black  eyes,  a  very  white  face,  and  a  quantity 
of  dark  hair?" 

"  She  had,  sir.  That  would  describe  her 
very  well.  A  woman  not  more  than  twenty- 
five  or  six,  and  evidently  of  a  superior  class." 

I  turned  this  bit  of  information  over  in  my 
mind.  To  be  sure,  I  could  not  at  the  moment 
make  anything  of  it  apropos  of  the  case  in 
hand,  but  afterwards  I  was  to  remember  it 
under  somewhat  startling  circumstances. 

"  So  you  see,  sir,"  the  detective  continued, 
"  every  point  you  made  was  met,  and  in  our 
opinion,  frankly  and  sufficiently  met.  Nothing 
was  found  which  could  possibly  justify  an 

164. 


A  DISAPPOINTMENT 

arrest,  and  unless  unfavourable  reports  are  re- 
ceived from  the  New  York  police,  the  case 
against  Mr.  Wildred  will  have  to  be  dropped. 
The  inspector  is  having  an  interview  with  him 
to-night,  and  doubtless  some  details  with  which 
we,  in  enforcing  our  search-warrant,  had  no 
concern  will  be  satisfactorily  cleared  up.  I 
mean  to  say,  details  relating  to  the  American 
gentleman,  his  ring,  and  his  departure  for  the 
States.  Should  we  hear  from  New  York  that 
he  has  not  returned,  why  of  course,  in  spite  of 
appearances  at  the  House  by  the  Lock  and 
failure  of  circumstantial  evidence,  suspicion 
will  be  renewed  again." 

There  was  absolutely  nothing  more  to  be 
said.  Deep  as  was  my  chagrin,  I  held  my 
tongue  as  to  my  opinion  of  the  way  affairs  had 
been  managed,  and  parted  with  the  young 
detective  with  apparent  nonchalance. 

Naturally,  I  slept  little  during  the  night,  and 
was  awake  even  before  the  early  knock  which 
sounded  at  my  door. 

"  Two  cablegrams  for  you,  sir,"  said  the 
waiter,  when  I  had  bidden  him  come  in. 

165 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

A  DESPERATE  REMEDY 

I  TOOK  the  envelopes  from  the  man  and  told 
him  he  might  go.  Now  for  it!  I  thought. 
Now  to  see  whether  the  edifice  I  had  builded 
had  but  a  foundation  of  sand,  or  whether  Wil- 
dred  had  merely  been  clever  enough  to  pull 
wool  over  the  eyes  of  the  police. 

My  heart  was  thumping  with  excitement  as 
I  opened  the  first  envelope. 

ff  St.  Paul  in  to-night.  First-class  passenger 
on  board  named  Harvey  Farnham." 

I  laid  the  bit  of  paper  down  dazedly  and 
took  up  the  other.  It  was  from  the  manager 
of  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  in  New  York. 
"  Mr.  Farnham  telegraphed  to  keep  room  for 
him.  Is  spending  day  or  two  with  friends." 

I  did  not  know  what  to  think.  It  all  sounded 
straightforward  enough,  and  it  was  not  credi- 
ble that  either  the  official  in  the  office  of  the 

166 


A   DESPERATE    REMEDY 

American  liners,  or  the  manager  of  an  hotel, 
could  be  in  collusion  with  Carson  Wildred. 
Still,  I  was  far  from  being  satisfied. 

For  the  moment  I  had  done  all  that  I  could 
do.  If  Farnham  was  stopping  with  a  friend, 
whose  address  was  unknown  to  me,  I  could  not 
at  present  expect  to  receive  an  answer  either  to 
my  New  York  or  Denver  cable.  In  a  day  or 
two  the  police  would  hear  something  from  the 
other  side,  and  meanwhile  I  must  possess  my 
soul  in  patience. 

This  was  a  thing  easier  said  than  done,  es- 
pecially as,  when  aimlessly  glancing  at  a  weekl y 
paper  in  the  club  next  day,  I  came  across  a 
paragraph  which  gushed  in  the  conventionally 
nauseous  manner  over  the  forthcoming  mar- 
riage of  the  beautiful  young  heiress,  Miss 
Karine  Cunningham,  and  Mr.  Carson  Wil- 
dred, the  "  well-known  millionaire  and  popular 
man  of  Society." 

Days  never  dragged  as  they  did  with  me 
until  I  received  the  promised  intimation  from 
my  friend  the  inspector  that  tidings  had  ar- 
rived from  the  police  in  New  York.     It  was 

167 


THE    HOUSE    BY    THE    LOCK 

all  right,  so  far  as  my  friend  was  concerned, 
and  I  need  have  no  further  fears  regarding  his 
safety.  The  body  found  in  the  Thames  was 
certainly  not  that  of  Mr.  Harvey  Farnham, 
as  he  was  in  New  York,  and  had  actually  been 
interviewed  there.  He  had  been  very  ill  in 
crossing,  and  had  had  the  misfortune  to  fall 
down  the  companionway  on  shipboard,  in  a 
heavy  gale,  spraining  his  ankle.  He  would 
not  be  able  to  resume  his  journey  and  proceed 
to  Denver  for  some  time  to  come,  but  had 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  any  foul  play.  When 
questioned  on  the  subject  of  the  ring,  he  said 
that  he  had  given  it  to  his  friend,  Mr.  Wildred, 
at  parting,  and  jokingly  added  that  he  had 
experienced  great  difficulty  in  getting  it 
off. 

In  these  circumstances,  as  there  could  be  no 
further  doubt  of  Mr.  Farnham's  living  pres- 
ence in  New  York,  no  possible  shadow  of  sus- 
picion need  any  longer  rest  upon  Mr.  Carson 
Wildred,  who  had  throughout  done  all  in  his 
power  to  further  the  investigations.  The 
search  for  the  man  from  the  camp  near  the 

168 


A   DESPERATE   REMEDY 

backwater  would  therefore  be  carried  on  upon 
the  same  lines  as  before. 

A  hot  sense  of  injustice  burned  within  me. 
I  had  been  thwarted  on  every  side,  not,  I  be- 
lieved, by  the  revelation  of  truth,  but  by 
Carson  Wildred's  superior  cunning.  He  had 
boasted  to  me  that,  in  the  role  of  villain, 
he  would  have  been  more  successful  than 
I;  and  I  was  quite  ready  to  agree  with 
this  statement.  All  things  seemed  against  me, 
and  yet  something  which  I  took  to  be  instinct 
cried  aloud  that  my  dream  had  not  deceived. 
I  could  not  understand  how  it  was  that  the 
New  York  police  had  been  made  to  believe  in 
the  identity  of  a  man  falsely  representing  him- 
self to  be  Harvey  Farnham,  yet  I  was  con- 
vinced that  in  some  devilish  way  even  they  had 
been  cozened.  No  other  man  living,  perhaps, 
could  have  undertaken  so  huge  a  scheme,  with 
so  many  different  strings  to  pull  at  one  and 
the  same  time,  and  successfully  carry  it 
through,  save  Carson  Wildred.  But  Carson 
Wildred  had  attempted  it,  I  concluded,  and 
having  gone  so  far,  there  was  every  reason  to 

169 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE   LOCK 

suppose  he  would  triumph  if  I — who  alone  of 
all  men  seemed  personally  interested — did  not 
set  myself  to  the  finding  of  a  new  method  for 
blocking  his  game. 

I  could,  I  thought,  understand  what  his 
motive  for  so  foul  a  murder  might  have  been. 
He  had  just  purchased  a  valuable  gold  mine 
from  Farnham.  Should  Farnham  be  made  to 
vanish  without  fear  of  suspicion  falling  upon 
Wildred,  the  latter  might  not  only  be  the  owner 
of  the  mine,  but  repossess  himself  of  the  pur- 
chase-money, which  must  have  comprised  a 
very  large  sum. 

There  was  no  further  hope  from  the  police. 
They  had  done  their  duty,  had  satisfied  them- 
selves on  every  point,  and  it  would  have  been 
unjust  to  expect  that  they  should  continue  to 
exert  themselves  in  favouring  my  apparently 
wild  view  of  the  situation. 

In  the  midst  of  the  cogitations  which  fol- 
low/ed  upon  the  receipt  of  the  inspector's  letter 
another  cablegram  was  handed  in  to  me.  This 
time  it  purported  to  be  from  Farnham  himself, 
merely  saying,  "Many  thanks  for  kind  en- 

170 


A   DESPERATE    REMEDY 

quiries.  Have  turned  up  here  smiling,  but  too 
seedy  to  write  at  present.  Glad  to  hear  from 
you.— Fifth  Avenue  Hotel." 

One  more  blow  aimed  at  my  theory!  But  I 
refused  to  be  knocked  down  by  it.  For 
Karine's  sake,  for  my  own  sake,  I  would  fol- 
low my  convictions  across  the  sea,  and  never 
rest  until  I  had  settled  all  doubts  for  myself. 

It  was  then  Friday.  In  five  minutes  after 
reading  this  third  and  apparently  conclusive 
cablegram  I  had  resolved  that  on  the  following 
day,  Saturday,  I  would  sail  for  New  York. 

It  was  only  by  a  severe  mental  wrench  that  I 
arrived  at  this  almost  desperate  decision,  for  I 
stood  between  two  fires,  either  one  of  which 
might  reduce  my  hopes  to  ashes. 

Going  to  America  meant  leaving  Karine 
Cunningham,  at  this  critical  juncture,  to  the 
mercy  of  the  enemy.  I  had  offered  her  friend- 
ship, and  such  protection  as  I  could  give, 
against  those  who  were  bent  on  forcing  her 
inclinations ;  and  with  a  look  in  her  sweet  eyes, 
and  a  soft  quiver  in  her  voice  which  I  could 
never  forget,  she  had  asked  me  "not  to  go 

171 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

away."  If  I  went,  and  any  harm  should  come 
to  her  during  my  absence,  I  could  never  for- 
give myself,  never  again  know  a  moment's 
peace  of  mind.  And  yet — if  I  stayed,  what 
was  there  to  hope  for  either  of  us?  I  had  shot 
all  my  arrows,  and  they  had  glanced  off, 
blunted,  from  Wildred's  apparently  invulner- 
able armour.  I  had  lost  the  chance  of  gaming 
assistance  from  the  police,  so  far  as  I  could 
see,  and  unless  some  miracle  should  suddenly 
come  to  pass,  I  should  be  obliged  to  stand  by 
while  Karine  Cunningham  gave  her  unwilling 
self  to  Wildred. 

Whatever  her  secret  reason  for  consenting 
to  do  so  might  be,  she  had  plainly  let  me  un- 
derstand that  she  meant  to  marry  the  man,  un- 
less Fate  especially  intervened  in  her  behalf. 

There  was  no  hope  that  she  would  let  me 
save  her  by  carrying  her  away.  I  had  not 
even  the  slightest  reason  to  suppose  that  she 
cared  for  me,  save  as  a  friend,  in  the  midst  of 
what  otherwise  she  had  said  would  be  f  riend- 
lessness. 

My  hands  were  bound,  therefore,  so  long  as 
172 


A   DESPERATE    REMEDY 

Carson  Wildred  was  able  to  hold  up  his  guilty 
head  before  the  world,  and  pass  himself  off  as 
a  blameless  member  of  society. 

Between  the  horns  of  this  dilemma — and 
heaven  knows  they  were  both  sharp  enough — 
I  could  only  choose  the  one  on  which  Karine 
and  I  seemed  less  likely  to  be  torn ;  and  there- 
fore it  was  that  I  elected  to  go  to  America. 

I  did  not  feel  that  I  could  bear  to  leave  with- 
out a  word  to  her.  How  could  I  tell  in  what 
light  my  absence  might  be  made  to  appear? 
From  the  vague  hints  she  had  dropped  as  to 
her  relations  with  Sir  Walter  and  Lady  Tres- 
sidy,  I  hardly  considered  that  it  would  be  safe 
to  write  to  her.  Such  a  letter  as  I  must  send, 
should  I  write  at  all,  if  read  by  eyes  for  which 
it  was  not  intended,  might  bring  Karine  into 
serious  trouble.  It  was  true  that  Lady  Tres- 
sidy  had  appeared  to  be  inclined  towards 
friendliness  with  me,  but  she  had  then  no  sus- 
picions of  my  attitude  to  Karine. 

I  would  go  down  into  the  country  and  call 
upon  Lady  Tressidy  and  Miss  Cunningham,  I 
resolved ;  and  if  I  had  no  opportunity  of  speak- 

173 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

ing  with  my  beautiful  girl  in  private,  I  would 
contrive  to  slip  into  her  own  hand  a  note  pre- 
viously prepared. 

My  decisions,  when  made,  are  usually  soon 
acted  upon.  Within  a  couple  of  hours  after 
receiving  the  inspector's  letter  and  the  message 
from  New  York  my  passage  was  engaged  for 
the  following  day.  A  curious  mood  was  upon 
me  as  I  began  my  preparations.  Hardly  more 
than  a  fortnight  ago  I  had  been  congratulat- 
ing myself  on  the  prospect  of  a  considerable 
stay  in  London.  My  ideal  existence  had  for 
the  moment  been  an  utterly  aimless  one.  I 
was  sated  with  excitement  and  what  is  popu- 
larly called  "  adventure,"  and  had  only  wanted 
to  rest  and  amuse  myself.  I  had  meant  to  be 
a  man  about  town  until  I  should  again  tire  of 
the  life,  drifting  agreeably  here  and  there,  tak- 
ing pleasure  as  it  came,  troubling  myself  little 
either  about  other  people's  affairs  or  my 
own. 

And  this  was  the  result  of  my  plan.  There 
seemed  a  certain  unreality  about  it  all.  I  felt 
like  the  puppet  of  circumstances,  or  one  who 

174. 


A   DESPERATE    REMEDY 

moved  through  strange  mazes,  half  conscious 
that  he  merely  dreams. 

By  two  o'clock  everything  was  arranged  for 
my  departure  on  Saturday,  and  I  was  at 
Waterloo,  taking  my  ticket  for  Haslemere, 
which  was  the  station  nearest  to  Sir  Walter 
Tressidy's  country  place. 


175 


CHAPTER   XIX 

"  NOT  AT  HOME  " 

I  HAD  a  long,  dreary  drive  after  leaving  the 
train,  though  in  other  circumstances  I  might 
have  been  charmed  with  the  loveliness  of  one 
of  England's  fairest  counties.  As  it  was  I 
merely  chafed  at  the  endless  hill,  up  which  the 
horse  slowly  plodded,  half  inclined  to  think  that 
after  all  I  should  have  done  better  to  trust  to 
my  own  feet  or  come  on  a  bicycle  from  town. 

The  curtain  of  twilight  was  falling  by  the 
time  my  fly  entered  the  long  avenue  that  led  to 
the  house.  Here  and  there  lights  shone  out 
from  the  windows,  and  as  the  vehicle  drew  up 
before  the  door  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  some- 
thing which  set  my  heart  throbbing. 

It  was  only  a  ruddy  gleam  of  firelight  on  a 
golden  head,  which  shone  for  an  instant  in  the 
warm  light  like  burnished  copper;  only  a  rosy 
glow  on  a  girl's  white  dress,  a  shimmer  seen  be- 

176 


"NOT   AT  HOME" 

tween  the  parted  folds  of  dark,  rich  window 
drapings. 

For  a  second,  no  more,  the  vision  was 
granted  me.  A  tall,  slender  form  rose  from 
its  kneeling  position  before  the  fire,  and  in  so 
moving  passed  beyond  my  line  of  sight.  But 
my  pulses  leaped,  and  I  rejoiced  in  the  good 
fortune  which  had  brought  me  at  an  hour  when 
Karine  was  not  absent. 

I  stepped  quickly  from  the  cab  and  would 
have  given  much  for  the  right  of  a  greater  in- 
timacy— a  right  to  go  to  the  window  and 
knock,  begging  the  girl  I  loved  to  let  me  in, 
to  grant  me  the  heaven  of  ten  minutes  alone 
with  her,  before  the  necessities  of  convention 
called  upon  me  to  ask  for  Lady  Tressidy. 

I  imagined  what  it  would  be  to  have  this 
right;  I  pictured  myself  tapping  at  the  panes 
of  the  long  French  window,  I  saw  the  dainty 
girlish  form  coming  toward  me,  the  start  of 
surprise,  the  flush  which  I  might  read  as  I 
would,  the  raising  of  the  latch,  and  the  two 
warm  little  hands  held  out  to  me  in  welcome. 

But  it  was  all  a  dream,  vanishing  as  quickly 
177 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

as  the  rainbow  colours  in  a  bubble,  and  leaving 
only  the  darkness  of  the  dull  winter  twilight 
behind.  Such  privileges  were  for  a  happier 
man  than  I :  I  was  at  best  only  her  "  friend." 
Never  could  I  hope,  whether  success  or  failure 
crowned  the  effort  I  was  impatient  to  begin — 
for  more  than  that. 

Instead  I  walked  soberly  up  to  the  door  and 
knocked,  telling  the  cabman  that  he  might 
wait — and  wishing  that  he  might  have  to  wait 
for  long. 

Presently  in  answer  to  my  summons  a  foot- 
man appeared  (a  fellow  I  remembered  to  have 
seen  at  the  town  house  when  I  had  called) ,  and 
it  struck  me  that,  as  I  enquired  if  Lady  Tres- 
sidy  was  at  home,  he  eyed  me  more  piercingly 
than  a  well-trained  servant  usually;  eyes  a 
guest. 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir,"  he  answered  with  a  slight 
hesitation,  "  that  her  ladyship  is  out  at  present. 
What  name  shall  I  say  when  she  returns?" 

"  Mr.  Stanton,"  I  unsuspectingly  replied, 
though  it  did  dimly  occur  to  me  that  the  man 
might  have  left  me  to  give  him  my  card.  It 

178 


seemed  almost  too  good  to  be  true  that  Lady; 
Tressidy  should  be  away  from  home,  for  now  I 
felt  practically  certain  that  I  should  have  the 
unexpected  joy  of  seeing  Karine  alone,  speak- 
ing to  her  far  more  unrestrainedly  than  I  could 
do  in  the  presence  of  her  hostess,  and  explain- 
ing in  a  way  satisfactory  to  us  both,  mjr  in- 
tended absence. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  I  hypocritically  remarked, 
"  not  to  see  Lady  Tressidy ;  but  I  have  come 
some  distance,  and  perhaps  Miss  Cunningham 
would  spare  me  a  few  minutes." 

"  I — I  am  afraid,  sir  " — still  stammering 
uncomfortably — "that  Miss  Cunningham  is 
away  with  her  ladyship." 

I  was  astonished  at  this  piece  of  informa- 
tion, for  I  was  absolutely  sure  that  it  was 
Karine  whose  shining  halo  of  hair  and  white 
gown  I  had  seen  in  that  rosy  space  between  the 
window  curtains.  Of  course  the  footman 
might  honestly  believe  that  she  was  not  at 
home;  but  I  did  not  mean  lightly  to  abandon 
the  chance  of  a  few  words  with  her. 

"  I  think  you  are  mistaken  about  that,"  I 
179 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

boldly  said.  "Please  be  good  enough  at  any 
rate  to  enquire." 

The  fellow's  face  reddened,  contrasting  un- 
pleasantly with  his  powder,  but  he  persisted  in 
his  story. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  I  am  right,  sir,"  he  went 
on  more  firmly.  "  Miss  Cunningham  is  with 
my  lady." 

My  impulse  was  to  slip  a  couple  of  sover- 
eigns into  his  palm,  and  insist  that  he  should 
ascertain  if  Miss  Cunningham  were  not  after 
all  at  home,  for  I  was  beginning  to  be  sus- 
picious of  a  plot  to  thwart  me.  If  such  an  one 
existed  I  could  not  think  that  Karine  had  been 
a  party  to  it,  for  though  of  course  she  could 
not  care  to  see  me,  in  at  all  the  same  way  in 
which  I  yearned  for  a  sight  of  her  sweet  face, 
I  believed  that  she  would  not  wish  me  to  be 
sent  away  from  the  house  humiliated.  My 
hand  was  moving  toward  my  pocket,  when  sud- 
denly I  reconsidered.  If  I  took  such  strong 
measures  to  secure  a  Ute-d-tete  with  Karine,  it 
might  appear  that  we  were  in  collusion,  and 
trouble  thus  be  made  for  her  with  Lady  Tres- 

180 


sidy  and  Sir  Walter.  I  could  not  risk  causing 
her  uneasiness,  especially  as  I  was  going  far 
away;  and  with  a  pang  I  saw  that  I  was  in  a 
trap. 

There  might  be  one  way  out,  however,  and  I 
took  it. 

"  I  will  wait,"  I  announced,  "  until  the  ladies 
return.  Or  possibly  Sir  Walter " 

"  Sir  Walter  won't  be  here  for  a  day  or 
two,"  promptly  responded  the  man. 

So  thoroughly  miserable  did  he  look,  though 
his  manner  gained  confidence,  that  I  thought 
he  must  still  be  new  to  a  service  which  must 
foster  a  certain  amount  of  conventional  deceit. 

"  As  for  the  ladies,  sir,  unfortunately  they 
are  not  expected  back  this  evening  until — until 
the  last  train — too  late,  as  you  can  understand, 
sir,  to  receive  any  visitors,  as  at  all  events  they 
can't  reach  the  house  until  after  eleven." 

I  bit  my  lip  with  futile  indignation  against 
Lady  Tressidy,  and  against  Fate — never 
against  Karine.  It  was  evident  that  the  foot- 
man had  received  the  most  stringent  orders  as 
to  what  he  must  do  in  case  of  so  undesirable  an 

181 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

emergency  as  a  visit  from  Mr.  Noel  Stanton. 
He  had  probably  been  asked  if  he  was  certain 
of  being  able  to  recognise  me  again,  had 
answered  that  he  believed  he  would  be  so,  but 
on  suddenly  being  called  upon  to  face  the  re- 
sponsibility, had  made  his  little  bid  for  ascer- 
taining my  name  as  early  as  possible  in  the 
game,  by  way  of  rendering  assurance  doubly 
sure. 

Of  course  the  dutiful  servant  was  not  really 
to  blame  for  following  out  his  instructions  to 
the  letter,  yet  I  felt  that  I  hated  his  smug  face 
and  plastered  head,  and  would  have  liked  to 
frighten  him  wfth  menaces  and  strange  foreign 
oaths. 

I  dared  not  give  him  the  note  which  I  had 
written,  meaning  if  necessary  to  slip  it  into 
Karine's  own  hand  unseen,  for  it  might  easily 
be  that,  despite  any  bribe  I  offered,  it  would 
never  reach  the  dear  eyes  for  which  it  was  in- 
tended. 

"  I  will  write  a  line  on  my  card,  then,  to  be 
handed  to  the  ladies,  whom  I  regret  not  having 
seen,"  I  said  with  what  dignity  I  had  at  my 

182 


"NOT   AT   HOME" 

command.  And  stepping  past  him  into  the 
hall,  despite  a  visible  gleam  of  consternation  in 
his  eye,  I  deliberately  took  out  a  pencil  and 
card-case,  slowly  scribbling  a  few  words. 

My  hope  was  that  if  Karine  was  really  in  the 
drawing-room  she  would  some  forth,  and  the 
Gordian  knot  of  the  dilemma  would  be  cut. 

But  having  mentioned  my  imminent  depar- 
ture from  England  on  private  and  urgent  busi- 
ness, and  added  that,  though  I  had  been 
anxious  to  see  Lady  Tressidy  and  Miss  Cun- 
ningham for  the  sake  of  bidding  good-bye,  it 
would  be,  more  strictly  speaking,  only  au 
revoir,  as  I  intended  returning  within  the  next 
four  weeks,  I  could  think  of  nothing  more  to 
say.  And  still  the  drawing-room  door,  near 
which  I  was  standing,  was  not  opened. 

I  should  have  been  glad  to  underscore  the 
last  six  words,  but  did  not  venture  to  do  so  for 
obvious  reasons,  and  could  only  hope  that 
Karine  might  see  them  or  hear  them  read,  and 
partly  understand. 

I  conspicuously  placed  a  sovereign  on  the 
card  as  I  gave  it  to  the  footman,  remarking 

183 


"NOT   AT   HOME" 

quietly  that  I  would  wish  the  latter  to  be  de- 
livered in  the  presence  of  both  ladies  if  possi- 
ble. Then  I  seemed  to  have  come  to  the  end 
of  my  resources,  until  a  desperate  idea  seized 
me. 

Had  I  not  been  virtually  certain  that  Karine 
was  to  be  kept  from  seeing  me,  without  her 
own  consent  to  such  an  arrangement,  naturally 
I  would  have  accepted  my  conge  with  a  good 
grace,  and  gone  away,  a  wiser  as  well  as  a  sad- 
der man;  but  as  it  was,  and  considering  the 
importance  for  her  future  as  well  as  my  own, 
of  a  hasty  explanation  between  us,  I  was  ready 
to  snatch  at  almost  any  expedient,  not  prejudi- 
cial to  her,  of  obtaining  a  word  with  Karine 
Cunningham. 

I  turned  from  the  door  and  got  into  the  cab, 
which  the  footman  politely  opened  for  me  as  if 
only  too  glad  to  speed  the  parting  guest.  The 
direction,  "  to  the  station,"  was  given,  the 
gravel  crunched  under  the  wheels  and  horse's 
hoofs,  the  door  at  which  I  had  been  received  so 
inhospitably  shut  me  out  of  paradise,  and  no 
doubt  the  servant  triumphantly  watched  me 

184 


"NOT   AT   HOME" 

drive  off.  Half-way  down  the  avenue,  how- 
ever, I  thrust  my  stick  from  the  window  of 
the  rattle-trap  vehicle  and  stopped  the  coach- 
man. 

"  I  have  forgotten  something,"  I  curtly  said. 
"  You  needn't  go  back;  wait  here,  and  I'll  re- 
turn again  in  a  few  moments." 

The  fly  was  standing  just  out  of  sight  from 
the  house,  and  rapidly  leaving  it  behind  me  I 
strode  over  the  frozen  grass  of  the  lawn,  taking 
a  shorter  cut  than  the  avenue  would  have 
been. 

In  considerably  less  than  five  minutes  I  had 
once  more  arrived  in  front  of  the  window 
through  which  I  was  as  positive  as  ever  I  had 
seen  Karine.  Only  a  short  time  ago  I  had 
dreamed  of  doing  such  a  thing  as  this  as  a 
delicious  impossibility,  only  belonging  to  a 
world  of  romance  which  I  could  never  enter. 
But  here  I  was  actually  bent  on  the  accom- 
plishment of  the  deed. 

The  falling  darkness  had  protected  me,  I 
felt  confident,  from  being  seen  by  anybody  in 
the  house  as  I  crossed  the  lawn,  and  I  ap- 

185 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

preached  with  boldness,  which  only  left  me  as 
I  reached  the  window. 

The  curtain  hung  apart  as  before,  and  I 
could  see  the  fireplace  with  the  lights  and 
shadows  travelling  fantastically  along  the 
polished  floor  and  wall.  The  white  irradiated 
figure  was  no  longer  visible,  but  undiscouraged 
by  this  fact  I  gently  tapped,  trusting  that 
Karine  might  be  in  another  part  of  the  room 
to  which  my  eyes  could  not  reach. 

If  she  were  there  my  knock  would  startle 
her  perhaps,  and  she  would  draw  near  in 
curiosity  to  see  what  had  made  the  slight  sus- 
picious noise;  then  I  could  make  my  presence 
known,  leaving  apologies  till  later,  and  after- 
ward— well,  afterward  the  rest  must  depend 
upon  her. 

But  I  knocked  once,  twice,  thrice,  each  time 
a  little  louder,  a  little  more  insistently  than  be- 
fore, and  there  was  no  response,  no  sound,  no 
movement.  After  all  I  was  thwarted,  and  had 
but  one  comfort  in  the  midst  of  gloom — I  had 
not  been  easily  repulsed,  I  had  done  what  I 
could,  and  need  not  feel,  when  I  was  far  away, 

186 


"NOT   AT   HOME" 

that  I  had  let  myself  be  outwitted,  outgen- 
eralled,  without  an  effort  to  resist. 

Fate  had  decided  that  I  must  go  to  America 
without  a  word,  without  a  look  into  Karine 
Cunningham's  eyes ;  and  drearily  returning  to 
my  waiting  cab  I  commenced  once  more  the 
tedious  drive  to  the  station. 

Never  had  I  felt  more  utterly  disheartened ; 
for,  after  all,  I  could  not  be  quite  sure  that 
Karine  had  not  acquiesced  in  the  order  to  ex- 
clude me  from  the  house.  It  seemed  that  she 
must  have  heard  my  voice  in  the  hall,  that  if 
she  had  chosen  she  might  easily  have  contrived 
some  means  of  seeing  me  while  I  was  briskly 
taxing  my  ingenuity  to  reach  her.  I  guessed 
at  Wildred's  powerful  influence  in  the  affair, 
and  was  ready  to  fancy  others ;  but,  as  I  was  to 
learn  long  afterward,  I  brought  forward  every 
reason  for  Karine's  mysterious  inertness  save 
the  right  one. 


187 


CHAPTER   XX 

THE  QUEST 

IT  was  a  piercingly  cold  day  when  I  landed 
in  New  York — such  cold  as  I  had  not  felt  since 
I  had  finished  my  last  American  visit,  four 
years  ago. 

Everyone  else  among  the  many  first-class 
passengers  seemed  to  have  some  welcoming 
friend  to  greet  him  on  shore  save  only  myself. 
I  would  not  let  myself  acknowledge  that  I  felt 
discouragement,  but  a  certain  gloomy  sense  of 
the  hopelessness  of  my  undertaking  would 
obtrude  itself,  as  I  rattled  over  the  badly-paved 
streets  of  New  York  in  the  chill  seclusion  of 
my  cab. 

I  had  myself  driven  straight  to  the  Fifth 
Avenue  Hotel,  which  was  becoming  almost  an 
old-fashioned  hostelry  now  among  its  many 
tall  new  rivals  of  incredibly  many  storeys  in 
height,  and  walking  up  to  the  "  office  "  pre- 
pared my  most  affable  manner,  to  win  the  con- 
fidence of  the  smart  "  clerk  "  or  book-keeper. 

188 


THE    QUEST 

"  Good-day,"  I  began  agreeably,  wishing 
that  in  former  visits  to  New  York  I  had 
stopped  at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel,  so  that 
now,  for  my  quest's  sake,  I  should  be  accorded 
the  welcome  of  an  old  friend. 

"  Good-day,"  was  the  brisk  reply.  "  You 
want  a  room?" 

"  I  should  like  first  to  enquire  if  Mr.  Harvey 
Farnham,  of  Denver,  Colorado,  is  stopping 
here,"  I  said.  "  My  principal  object  in  choos- 
ing this  hotel  was  to  meet  him,  but  if " 

"  Gone  three  days  ago,"  broke  in  the  gentle- 
man with  the  waxed  moustache,  who  evidently 
did  not  wish  to  waste  time  on  a  traveller  more 
inclined  to  parley  than  to  patronise  the 
house. 

This  was  the  first  setback  I  had  experienced 
on  American  shores,  but  so  many  had  been  my 
portion  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic  that 
I  had  had  time  to  grow  accustomed  to  them. 
I  had  prepared  my  mind  for  as  numerous  re- 
buffs here,  yet  in  spite  of  that  I  felt  the  bitter- 
ness of  disappointment  settling  bleakly  down 
upon  me.  Already  I  had  been  given  a  sign 

189 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE    LOCK 

that  Wildred's  cleverness  had  projected  itself 
across  the  width  of  ocean. 

"  Ah,  indeed,  I'm  sorry  to  hear  that  he  has 
left.  Is  he  with  friends  in  town,  or  has  he 
gone  to  Denver?  "  I  questioned,  with  as  bland 
an  air  as  I  could  well  command. 

"  Can't  tell  you  whether  he's  gone  to  Denver, 
I'm  sure,  sir.  But  I  think  it's  almost  certain 
he's  not  in  town,  and  somehow  or  other  I've  got 
the  impression  that  he  mentioned  he  was  going 
west." 

"  I  suppose  his  health  improved  more  rapidly 
than  he  expected,  then,"  I  went  on.  "  I  under- 
stood before  crossing  that  his  accident  on  ship- 
board had  laid  him  up  for  awhile,  and  that  it 
would  be  some  time  before  he  felt  fit  to  under- 
take the  journey  home." 

"  He  did  seem  rather  seedy,"  vouchsafed  the 
clerk.  "  But  he  was  pretty  well  able  to  take 
care  of  himself.  Shall  I  put  you  down  for  a 
room?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered  indifferently.  "I  sup- 
pose you  may  as  well — for  one  night." 

It  was  already  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  I 
190 


THE    QUEST 

had  certain  investigations  to  make  before  I  re- 
newed my  interrupted  journey  in  the  direction 
Harvey  Farnham  was  believed  to  have  taken 
— going  toward  the  setting  sun. 

I  knew  well  enough  that  I  was  seriously 
handicapped  as  a  detective  by  my  complete 
amateurishness,  and  possibly  a  little  by  my  own 
keen  personal  anxiety,  which  did  not  tend  to 
cool  my  head  or  my  pulses  when  coolness  was 
needed;  but  though  I  would  fain  have  had  ad- 
vice from  some  clever  professional  expert,  the 
reports  of  the  New  York  police  had  certainly 
not  been  such  as  would  encourage  me  to  seek 
assistance  from  the  force.  It  appeared  to  me 
that  I  must  "  dree  my  weird  "  alone. 

In  the  handsome,  typically  American  room 
that  was  allotted  to  me  I  sat  down  to  map  out 
my  future  course,  as  well  as  I  could  see  it. 

Either  the  brisk-mannered  young  "  clerk  " 
had  shown  a  slight  reserve  in  answering  my 
eager  questions  regarding  Harvey  Farnham, 
or  I  had  been  morbidly  sensitive  enough  to 
fancy  it  in  his  face  and  way  of  speaking. 
Doubtless,  when  the  police  had  been  acting  in 

191 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

the  affair  under  advices  from  London,  he  had 
been  subjected  to  a  previous  catechism  concern- 
ing the  western  millionaire's  movements,  and 
if  that  were  the  case  it  was  only  natural  he 
should  be  cautiously  inclined.  But  once  I 
could  win  his  confidence  and  thoroughly  con- 
vince him  that  I  had  no  connection  whatever 
with  the  police,  I  ventured  to  hope  there  might 
yet  be  a  chance  of  learning  at  least  a  little  more 
from  him  than  I  had  been  able  to  glean. 

Perhaps  it  was  something  in  the  nature  of  a 
sop  to  Cerberus  that  I  should  have  asked  for 
one  of  the  best  rooms  in  the  house;  and  then, 
beside,  rny  name  written  in  the  visitors'  book 
(or  "hotel  register,"  as  it  is  the  fashion  to  call 
it  in  the  States)  evidently  had  some  meaning 
for  the  young  man  round  whom  my  hopes  cen- 
tred, for  his  manner  had  decidedly  changed  for 
the  better  when  I  visited  him  again  after 
dinner. 

He  was  not  particularly  busy  at  the  moment, 
and  appeared  in  the  humour  for  conversation, 
asking  me  of  his  own  free  will  if  it  were  possi- 
ble that  I  was  "  Noel  Stanton,  the  traveller." 

192 


THE    QUEST 

I  did  not  deny  this  impeachment,  and,  more- 
over, showed  myself  willing  to  be  "  drawn  "  on 
the  subject  of  my  explorations.  I  even  went 
so  far  as  to  relate  an  adventure  at  some  length 
(a  thing  I  am  thankful  to  say  I  have  never 
been  guilty  of  before  or  since),  told  an  anec- 
dote which  made  the  young  man  laugh,  and 
flattered  him  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  by  ask- 
ing his  opinion  about  an  American  political 
crisis  of  the  day.  Then,  by  gradual  steps,  I 
led  the  talk  toward  the  great  West  in  general, 
Colorado  silver  mines  in  particular,  and  so  at 
last  reached  the  subject  of  Harvey  Farnham, 
one  of  the  most  prominent  of  the  financiers  of 
that  State. 

"  I  was  much  disappointed,  I  confess,  at  not 
finding  him  here,"  I  remarked,  "  and  shall  on 
his  account  cut  short  my  visit  to  New  York. 
Farnham  and  I  have  known  each  other  for 
some  years;  and,  by  the  way,  I  remember  his 
saying  that  in  his  opinion  this  was  the  best- 
managed  hotel  in  New  York.  I  believe  he 
usually  stops  here  when  in  town,  doesn't  he?  " 

"  So  it  seems,  sir,"  answered  the  clerk,  very 
193  • 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

civilly  now,  having  decided  to  be  patient  with 
my  humour.  "  However,  I  had  never  seen  him 
until  he  turned  up  the  other  day.  I  haven't 
been  in  my  present  position  very  long.'* 

"  I  suppose  you  did  see  him  though?  "  I  per- 
severed. "  How  was  he  looking  after  his  ac- 
cident— seedy  at  all?  " 

"  He  was  very  thin,  if  you  mean  that," 
laughed  my  informant.  "  He  limped  about 
with  a  crutch,  too,  and  as  he  had  bumped  his 
forehead  in  the  same  fall  which  sprained  his 
ankle,  he  wore  a  green  shade  that  covered 
his  temples  and  his  eyes."  I  grew  attentive  at 
this.  It  appeared  to  me  that  here  was  a  point 
in  my  favour. 

"  I  should  like  to  have  a  talk  with  one  of  his 
old  friends  in  the  hotel,"  I  said ;  "  the  manager, 
for  instance.  No  doubt  he  knows  Mr.  Farn- 
ham  very  well." 

"  He  does,  but  he's  out  of  town  on  business 
for  a  day  or  two.  I  think  you'll  find,  though, 
that  our  bartender  and  Mr.  Farnham  were 
about  as  chummy  together  as  anyone  in  the 
house." 

194 


THE    QUEST 

Apparently  at  my  leisure,  really  with  great 
impatience,  I  repaired  to  the  extremely  hand- 
some "  barroom  "  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  Ho- 
tel, and  here  the  oracle  was  very  communi- 
cative. 

Having  mixed  me  a  peculiarly  American 
drink  called  "  gin  fizz,"  the  bartender  was  will- 
ing to  chat  of  Mr.  Farnham. 

"  I  guess  he  must  have  been  pretty  bad  this 
last  time,"  he  said,  in  response  to  my  first 
question,  "  for  he  didn't  trouble  the  barroom 
much." 

"He  did  come  in,  however,  did  he  not?"  I 
asked  anxiously. 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  came  in  once  or  twice,  but  I 
thought  he  acted  rather  grumpy  and  queer." 

"  Did  you  have  a  good  look  at  him  either 
time?"  I  pressed  on,  with  eagerness. 

"  Pretty  good.  Almost  as  close  as  you  are 
now,  I  guess." 

"  And  did  he  appear  the  same  as  usual,  with 
the  exception  of  the  green  shade  over  his 


eyes? 


Well,  I  reckon  he  did.     I  was  kind  of  busy 
195 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

both  times,  and  I  don't  know  as  I  took  much 
notice." 

"  Still  "—and  I  called  up  a  laugh—"  you'd 
have  known  whether  it  really  was  Mr.  Farn- 
ham,  or  a  stranger  passing  himself  off  in  his 
place?" 

The  bartender  stared  at  me  for  an  instant, 
and,  had  he  spoken  his  inmost  thoughts,  prob- 
ably they  might  have  been  appropriately  ex- 
pressed in  the  slang  phrase,  "  Ah,  what  are  you 
givin'  me?"  "Well,  it  might  have  been  his 
grandfather's  ghost,  I  daresay,"  he  faceti- 
ously remarked  at  length,  "  but,  anyhow,  there 
seemed  to  be  a  strong  resemblance  between 
Harvey  Farnham  and  him." 

I  set  down  my  glass  untouched.  A  cold 
conviction  was  growing  within  me  that  I  had 
been  mistaken;  that,  villain  as  Carson  Wildred 
was,  he  had  not,  after  all,  been  guilty  of  the 
one  great  crime  which  I  had  attributed  to  him. 
It  seemed  almost  impossible  that  this  keen- 
eyed  man,  accustomed  to  Farnham's  comings 
and  goings  for  several  years,  could  have  mis- 
taken another  for  him. 

196 


THE    QUEST 

Next  morning  when  I  had  put  together  the 
few  things  that  I  had  had  occasion  to  unpack, 
and  was  "  tipping  "  the  pretty  chambermaid 
who  "  chanced  "  to  come  to  my  door  as  I  was 
departing,  a  sudden  inspiration  seized  me,  and 
I  called  the  young  woman  back  again  as  she 
was  disappearing. 

"By  the  way,"  I  said,  "  did  you  happen  to 
attend  a  Mr.  Harvey  Farnham,  who  was  here  a 
few  days  ago,  and  who  has  often  stopped  in 
the  hotel." 

"  Oh,  yes,  sir,"  she  answered,  "  I  know  him 
quite  well,  and  a  very  pleasant,  generous  gen- 
tleman he  is — or  rather  "  (and  her  face  changed 
at  some  recollection),  "or  rather  was." 

I  caught  her  up  eagerly.  "  Was? J'  I  echoed. 
'  Wasn't  he  the  same  as  usual  this  last  time?  " 

"  No,  that  he  wasn't,  sir.  I  thought  to  my- 
self, thinks  I,  *  Mr.  Farnham  must  have  been 
disappointed  in  love  or  something,'  he  was  so 
grumpy  and  dull.  Always  before  when  he 
came  he  had  a  good  word  for  me,  *  How  do  you 
do,  Ginnie? '  or  a  smile  and  a  nod,  but  now  he 
went  by  me  without  a  sign,  for  all  the  world  as 

197 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

if  he'd  never  seen  me  before,  though  I've  been 
here  since  I  was  seventeen ;  that's  six  years  ago. 
When  I  spoke  to  him  first,  why  he  looked  up 
and  answered  in  a  mumbling  way,  never  even 
saying  my  name.  But  then,  poor  gentleman, 
I  suppose  he  was  too  sick  to  think  of  anybody 
except  himself." 

"Did  he  look  strangely?"  I  went  on  to 
question. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,  sir,  except  for 
the  green  shade  he  had  to  wear  over  his  eyes ;  I 
suppose  his  face  was  much  the  same.  Only  I 
didn't  get  many  chances  to  see  it,  and  all  his 
jolly  ways  and  smiles  were  gone,  so  that  made 
a  difference.  I  was  so  glad  when  I  saw  his 
baggage  coming  up,  for  there's  never  been  a 
gentleman  so  popular  with  us  girls  as  Mr. 
Farnham;  but  except  for  his  giving  me  some- 
thing when  he  went  away,  he  might  almost  as 
well  not  have  been  in  the  hotel." 

;<  Would  you  have  recognised  his  voice,"  I 
asked,  "  if  you  had  not  seen  him?  " 

"  I  would  when  he  was  well  and  like  himself, 
sir,  in  a  minute,  but  not  this  time,  because  of 

198 


THE   QUEST 

the  bad  cold  he'd  got  on  the  voyage,  which  he 
said  was  the  worst  he'd  ever  had.  He  did 
nothing  but  cough  and  wheeze,  and  could  only 
speak  in  a  hoarse  sort  of  whisper." 

These  details  were  all  I  could  extract  from 
"  Ginnie"  the  chambermaid;  but  before  I  left 
the  hotel  it  occurred  to  me  to  examine  the  visi- 
tors' book  for  Farnham's  name,  wishing  to  look 
at  the  handwriting  which,  if  his,  I  felt  sure  I 
could  not  fail  to  recognise.  As  I  searched  the 
pages  vainly  I  thought  with  some  compunction 
of  Farnham  himself,  remembering  how  I  had 
hardly  known,  on  the  evening  of  our  unex- 
pected meeting  in  London,  whether  or  not  to 
be  genuinely  pleased  to  see  him.  I  had  feared 
to  have  too  much  of  his  society  during  the  few 
hours  at  the  St.  James's  Theatre;  yet  ever 
since,  by  a  strange  irony  of  fate,  I  had  been 
doomed  to  pursue  him,  to  think  of  little  that 
was  not  in  some  way  or  other  connected  with 
Harvey  Farnham  and  his  affairs. 

Evidently  he  had  not  considered  it  worth  his 
while  to  write  in  the  visitors'  book  on  this  occa- 
sion, though  I  found  that  he  had  scrawled  his 

199 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

name  when  staying  in  the  hotel  some  months 
before.  This  counted  for  nothing  definite,  of 
course;  and  as  for  the  taciturnity  of  which 
the  chambermaid  complained,  the  ailments 
from  which  my  poor  friend  was  reported  to 
have  been  suffering  were  quite  enough  to  ac- 
count for  that.  Still,  through  her  words  and 
those  of  the  man  in  the  bar,  I  had  gained  my 
only  real  evidence — if  evidence  it  might  be 
called — and  as  such  I  treasured  the  scanty 
information. 

Having  by  dint  of  some  exertion  found  the 
cabman  who  had  driven  Farnham  from  the 
hotel  to  the  railway  depot,  I  made  sure  that  his 
luggage  had  been  "  checked  "  to  Denver,  and 
so  set  forth  again  with  a  feeling  that  I  had 
something  to  go  upon. 

Never  had  a  journey  seemed  to  me  so  end- 
less. After  Chicago  the  interminable  plains 
got  upon  my  nerves,  and  I  looked  out  eagerly 
for  the  first  range  of  the  snow-clad  Rockies. 

The  trip  had  taken  the  best  part  of  three 
days,  and  it  was  early  morning  when  I  arrived 
in  busy  Denver,  where  the  dry  cold  wind  and 

200 


THE    QUEST 

the  whirring  shrieks  of  electric  trams  made  me 
feel  that  I  had  left  the  place  but  yesterday. 
Much  was  changed,  and  many  more  tall,  hand- 
some blocks  of  pink  stone  had  been  erected  dur- 
ing my  four  years'  absence ;  still  I  easily  found 
my  way  to  the  building  where  Harvey  Farn- 
ham  had  offices. 

It  was  just  past  breakfast  time,  but  the 
business  world  of  Denver,  Colorado,  and  the 
"  great  West  "  is  astir  at  an  hour  which  would 
appear  unusual  in  England.  I  asked  for  Mr. 
Farnham,  and  was  told  by  a  young  clerk  that 
he  had  returned  to  Denver  three  or  four  days 
previously.  He  had  not  been  at  the  offices,  as 
he  was  somewhat  unwell  as  yet,  but  if  I  chose 
I  could  see  Mr.  Bennett,  who  would  tell  me 
when  he  might  be  expected. 

I  remembered  Bennett,  now  that  I  was  re- 
minded of  his  existence,  as  an  energetic  young 
fellow  high  in  Farnham's  confidence,  who 
probably  knew  as  much  about  the  mining  and 
other  financial  interests  as  did  his  employer.  I 
said  therefore  that  I  would  see  Mr.  Bennett 
by  all  means. 

201 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

He  came  in  to  me  briskly  in  a  few  moments, 
surprised,  and,  he  said,  delighted  to  meet  me 
again.  Yes,  it  was  quite  true  that  Mr.  Farn- 
ham  had  returned,  but  was  as  yet  unable  to  be 
troubled  by  business  affairs. 

This  settled  the  matter,  then,  I  assured  my- 
self. There  was  nothing  left  for  me  to  do  but 
rejoice  in  Farnham's  safety,  curse  my  own 
idiocy  for  harbouring  fantastic  suspicions, 
despite  all  evidence  which  should  long  ago  have 
overthrown  them,  and  proceed  to  retrace  my 
six  thousand  mile  journey  across  the  continent 
and  the  Atlantic. 

I  should  at  all  events  have  the  satisfaction, 
I  bitterly  reflected,  that  I  had  done  my  best  to 
serve  Karine's  interests  and  my  own,  and  I 
should  arrive  in  England  in  plenty  of  time  to 
see  her  married  to  the  man  I  had  vainly  at- 
tempted to  prove  a  murderer. 

I  became  for  the  first  moment  conscious  that 
I  was  desperately  weary,  that  I  had  eaten  little 
during  the  past  few  days,  and  slept  less.  I 
had  not  troubled  myself  to  breakfast  that 
morning — devouring  food  had  seemed  so  ut- 

202 


THE    QUEST 

terly  irrelevant — and  now  for  an  instant,  as 
Mr.  Bennett's  words  rang  in  my  ears,  a  curious 
sudden  dizziness  overpowered  me.  I  felt  sick 
and  faint,  and  realised  that  life  was  a  failure, 
with  nothing  worth  living  for  in  future,  since 
Karine  Cunningham  would  soon  be  Karine 
Wildred. 

"  You  look  ill,  Mr.  Stanton,"  remarked  Ben- 
nett. "  I  guess  you've  had  a  tiresome  journey. 
I  know  what  a  bad  run  that  is  between  Chicago 
and  Denver." 

A  nasty  run,  indeed  I  But  it  would  be  much 
worse  going  back  again,  leaving  the  house  of 
cards,  which  I  had  come  so  far  to  see,  lying  in 
ruins  behind  me.  Still,  I  continued  to  beat 
into  my  brains  the  fact  that  I  rejoiced  in  poor 
old  Farnham's  safety. 

"  I  believe  I  am  a  bit  knocked  out,"  I  said, 
"  though  I  ought  to  be  able  to  stand  a  trifle 
like  that  and  think  nothing  of  it.  I  should 
be  glad  to  see  Mr.  Farnham.  I  suppose  such 
an  old  friend  as  I  might  venture  to  call  in  on 
him,  even  though  he  isn't  feeling  as  fit  as  I 
should  like  to  think  him.  If  he's  not  likely  to 

203 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

turn  up  here  presently  I  might  drive  to  the 
house,  and  he'd  give  me  breakfast,  I  daresay." 

I  saw  before  I  had  finished  my  second  sen- 
tence that  Bennett  was  slightly  disturbed.  He 
flushed  to  the  roots  of  his  flaxen  hair,  and  his 
face  wore  an  expression  which  betrayed  a  sup- 
pressed desire  to  whistle. 

'  You  can  bet  he  would  give  you  breakfast, 
or  anything  else  he  had,  Mr.  Stanton,"  the 
trusted  man  of  business  said  heartily,  yet  with 
a  certain  irresolution.  "  But  the  fact  is,  he 
ain't  at  the  house  this  morning.  He's  gone 
away  again." 

"  I  thought  he  was  unwell,"  I  interpolated, 
in  surprise. 

'  That's  so.  He's  a  sick  man,  not  hardly  fit 
to  be  about,  but  for  all  that  he's  off.  He  ought 
to  be  back  again  in — well,  in  a  few  days,  how- 
ever." 

"  A  few  days ! "  I  echoed. 

"  More  or  less.  By  George !  he  will  be  mad 
when  he  knows  he's  kept  you  waiting.  For,  of 
course,  you  will  wait,  won't  you,  Mr.  Stan- 
ton?  " 

204 


THE    QUEST 

"  I  should  certainly  like  to  see  him  before 
I  go  back  to  the  East,"  I  said;  and  I  spoke  no 
more  than  the  truth,  for,  putting  my  cordial 
feeling  for  Farnham  out  of  the  question,  it 
might  be  that  valuable  information  concerning 
Wildred's  past  could  be  wrested  from  him  with 
due  diplomacy.  "  Still,  I  hardly  feel  like 
hanging  about  Denver  for  an  indefinite  length 
of  time,  doing  nothing.  I  shouldn't  mind  a 
little  journey,  as  I've  come  so  far.  If  he's  at 
any  of  the  Colorado  mines,  perhaps  I  might 
run  out  and  join  him;  I've  been  there  with  him 
before,  you  may  remember." 

"  You  might  indeed,  sir,"  returned  Ben- 
nett, still  embarrassed,  "  if  he  was  in  any  such 
place,  which  he  isn't.  To  tell  you  the  plain 
truth,  Mr.  Stanton,  as  I'm  sure  Mr.  Farnham 
would  wish,  if  he  could  dream  it  was  you  I  was 
talking  to,  why,  this  little  journey  of  his  is 
strictly  on  the  '  Q.  T.'  I  guess  from  what  he 
said  there's  a  lady  mixed  up  in  it." 

Exactly  what  Wildred  had  said,  .when  ex- 
plaining his  friend's  absence  on  Christmas  Day 
from  the  House  by  the  Lock!  I  remembered 

205 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

the  coincidence,  though  I  could  hardly  see  that 
it  bore  with  any  importance  on  the  present 
case.  Farnham  might  hold  several  feminine 
trump  cards  to  play  at  the  end  of  a  trick  for 
all  I  knew,  or  had  a  right  to  know. 

"  I  tell  you  what  to  do,  Mr.  Stanton,"  Ben- 
nett continued,  recovering  his  wonted  self-pos- 
session. "  You  just  go  up  to  the  house,  and 
make  yourself  at  home  there  till  Mr.  Farnham 
gets  back.  You  know  what  a  big  place  it  is, 
and  how  glad  the  chief  is  to  fill  it  with  his 
friends,  especially  such  friends  as  you.  Then, 
by  the  end  of  next  week,  anyhow " 

I  interrupted  him  impatiently.  "  What, 
will  he  be  away  till  then?  " 

"  I  should  think  it  was  probable  from  what 
he  said  before  he  left,  sir." 

"  I  wish,"  I  exclaimed  desperately,  "  that 
you  could  see  your  way  to  making  things  a 
little  clearer  for  me.  I  don't  want  to  pry  into 
Farnham's  affairs,  of  course — that  goes  with- 
out saying.  But  perhaps,  without  any  betrayal 
of  confidence,  you  might  let  me  know  exactly 
what  he  did  tell  you  in  regard  to  his  return." 

206 


THE    QUEST 

"  Well,"  said  Bennett,  with  a  short  laugh, 
"  seeing  it's  you !  The  fact  is,  Mr.  Stanton, 
it'll  be  a  considerable  relief  to  my  mind  to  talk 
over  the  matter,  and  ask  your  opinion  as  to  one 
or  two  points  that  have  been  rather  troubling 
me." 

He  glanced  up  into  my  face,  almost  for  the 
first  time  since  we  had  begun  the  discussion, 
and  I  saw  that  I  was  to  hear  something  which 
he  considered  of  importance. 

Of  how  great  importance  it  was  to  prove  for 
me,  I  did  not  dare  to  dream. 


207 


CHAPTER   XXI 

A   PICTUBJE   FBOM   THE   PAST 

"  THE  fact  is,"  said  Bennett,  "  I  haven't 
quite  known  what  to  make  of  Mr.  Farnham 
since  he's  been  back  on  this  side  the  herring- 
pond.  Of  course  he  hasn't  been  well,  but  that 
would  hardly  be  enough  to  account  for  the 
change  in  him.  Did  you  see  him,  may  I  ask, 
Mr.  Stanton,  when  he  was  in  England? " 

I  informed  him  that  I  had  done  so,  not 
thinking  it  best  to  volunteer  the  statement  that 
I  had  only  met  him  once. 

"  And  did  he  seem  like  himself? " 

This  was  rather  turning  the  tables  upon  me. 
I  was  not  prepared  to  answer  many  questions, 
but  without  hesitation  I  replied  to  this  one, 
saying  that,  in  my  opinion,  Farnham  had 
seemed  uncommonly  jolly  and  well. 

Bennett  looked  thoughtful.  "  He  got  home 
here  in  Denver  at  night,"  he  said,  "  after  tele- 
graphing from  New  York  he  was  coming;  I 

208 


PICTURE    FROM    THE    PAST 

went  to  call  at  his  request — another  wire — not 
a  letter — and  he  saw  me  in  bed.  Mr.  Farnham. 
is  fond  of  plenty  of  light  and  noise  as  a  rule, 
but  in  his  bedroom  he  had  refused  to  have  the 
electricity  turned  on,  and  there  was  only  a 
lamp  on  the  table,  as  far  as  possible  from  the 
bed.  I  called  out,  '  How  do  you  do?'  in  my 
usual  tones,  but  he  answered  me  almost  in  a 
whisper.  There  were  some  important  papers 
which  had  been  waiting  for  him  to  sign,  and 
I  had  taken  them  with  me,  thinking  he'd  be 
anxious  to  attend  to  them — he  was  always  so 
keen  and  prompt  in  business — but  he  seemed 
quite  angry  when  I  suggested  it,  and  said  he 
wasn't  to  be  bothered  about  anything  of  the 
sort  for  a  week. 

"  Next  evening  I  saw  him  again  for  a  few 
moments,  and  there  was  the  same  dim  light, 
the  same  whispering.  He  was  going  away 
again  immediately,  he  informed  me,  and  when 
I  objected  that  he  didn't  seem  up  to  travelling, 
he  answered  that  when  there  was  a  lady  in  the 
case  there  was  no  question  of  a  man  being  *  up 
to '  things.  I  might  send  his  letters  to  the 

209 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

Santa  Anna  Hotel,  San  Francisco,  he  went  on, 
until  further  notice,  which  I  should  receive  by 
telegraph  in  about  ten  days  if  his  plans  went 
well.  Just  as  I  was  going  he  said,  kind  of 
laughing  and  yet  partly  in  earnest  too,  '  Well, 
Bennett,  if  you  don't  hear  from  me  at  the  end 
of  that  time,  you'd  better  begin  to  look  me  up. 
The  game  that  I  mean  to  try  and  win  is  a  dan- 
gerous one.  There  are  others  who  want  the 
lady  beside  myself.' 

"  Now,  if  there  was  a  town  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  that  Mr.  Farnham  used  to  hate,  that 
town  was  San  Francisco.  It  was  because  he 
hated  the  journey,  and  never  wanted  to  take  it 
again,  that  he  sold  his  mine  out  in  California 
to  the  English  gentleman,  Mr.  Wildred.  I 
wouldn't  have  supposed  that  there  was  a 
woman  alive  would  have  got  him  to  go  to  San 
Francisco,  and  I  used  to  think,  too,  that  Mr. 
Farnham  didn't  care  much  for  women;  but  no 
doubt  the  longer  one  lives  the  more  one  learns, 
and  the  more  surprises  one  gets  in  such  mat- 
ters. I  needn't  say  much  about  his  being  away 
from  Denver  for  a  few  days,  even  at  the  office, 

210 


PICTURE    FROM    THE    PAST 

he  hinted  to  me;  and  with  that  we  parted. 
Next  morning  early  he  left,  and  not  a  line  have 
I  had  except  a  wire,  merely  announcing  his 
safe  arrival  at  the  Santa  Anna  Hotel." 

I  listened  in  silence.  Before  Bennett  had 
finished  speaking  my  thoughts  were  far  away 
— as  far  as  San  Francisco. 

"  By  Jove!  "  I  exclaimed  aloud,  with  a  rush- 
ing of  blood  to  my  brain  that  pulsed  to  burst- 
ing in  the  little  veins  at  my  temples.  "  The 
Santa  Anna  Hotel! " 

"  Do  you  know  it,  Mr.  Stanton?  "  enquired 
Bennett,  evidently  surprised  at  my  sudden 
vehemence. 

"  I  was  there  once  many  years  ago,"  I  said. 
"The  name  has  brought  back  an  old  associa- 
tion to  my  mind  which  I  had  thought  was  lost." 

I  knew  now  where  I  had  seen  those  strange 
light  eyes  of  Carson  Wildred's,  and  what  was 
the  deed  with  which  they  had  connected  them- 
selves in  my  mind.  After  all,  perhaps,  I  had 
not  come  to  America  for  nothing! 

My  memory  travelled  back  over  a  space  of 
ten  years.  I  had  then  come  back  to  San  Fran- 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE    LOCK 
X 

cisco  after  an  expedition  into  distant  wilds 
with  a  party  of  friends  shooting  grizzlies  in 
the  Rockies.  I  had  stopped  at  the  Santa  Anna 
Hotel,  a  small  hostelry  lately  built,  having  an 
English  landlord,  and  therefore  greatly  fre- 
quented by  Englishmen. 

On  the  night  of  my  arrival  there  had  been  a 
serious  disturbance  in  the  house.  Three  men 
who  had  been  stopping  at  the  place  got  quar- 
relling over  a  game  of  cards  which  they  were 
playing  in  a  private  parlour.  Two,  who  were 
the  hosts,  and  were  entertaining  the  third,  had 
set  upon  him  with  intent  to  kill,  being  accused 
of  cheating.  I  and  several  of  my  friends  had 
run  out  from  the  billiard-room,  hearing  a  yell 
for  help,  just  in  time  to  see  a  man  in  evening 
dress  stagger,  bleeding,  from  the  opposite 
door.  "  I'm  killed !  That  devil  has  mur- 
dered me  I  "  he  exclaimed,  and  fell  forward  on 
his  face. 

At  Bennett's  mention  of  the  Santa  Anna 
Hotel  the  whole  scene  had  come  up  before  me 
as  vividly  as  though  it  had  been  enacted  but 
yesterday.  The  open  door,  showing  a  bril- 

212 


PICTURE    FROM    THE    PAST 

liantly-lighted  interior;  cards  scattered  on  the 
carpet;  a  young  man — almost  a  boy — stand- 
ing, as  if  frozen  with  horror,  by  an  overset 
table;  a  large  bowie  knife,  common  to  the 
country,  apparently  fallen  from  his  right  hand 
to  the  floor. 

At  the  door  itself  an  older  man,  who  had 
followed  the  victim,  no  doubt  with  the  inten- 
tion of  keeping  him  from  making  an  outcry 
or  escaping  into  the  hall.  But  he  had  been  too 
late,  and  the  expression  of  his  face  as  he  met 
our  eyes  was  hideous.  Though  the  knife  had 
to  all  appearance  been  used  by  his  companion, 
it  was  at  him  that  the  murdered  man  had 
pointed  before  he  fell  and  died.  He  was  the 
one  apostrophised  as  "  that  devil "  by  the 
death-stricken  wretch;  and  though  he  had  had 
a  high,  aquiline  nose,  red  hair,  and  bristling 
auburn  brows  that  met  across  his  forehead,  the 
eyes  had  been  those  of  Carson  Wildred. 

They  were  eyes  not  easy  to  forget,  especially 
as  they  blazed  defiance  into  those  of  the  men 
who  sprang  forward  to  lay  hands  upon  him. 
;'  There  stands  the  murderer,  gentlemen,  as 

213 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

you  see,"  he  had  said,  making  a  gesture  to- 
wards his  young  companion,  a  boy  of  eighteen 
or  nineteen,  who  seemed  tcro  astonished  and 
horrified  to  move.  Despite  the  evidence  of  the 
fallen  knife,  however,  not  one  among  the  men 
who  witnessed  the  end  of  the  scene  believed 
that  the  youth  was  guilty.  Murder  was  in  the 
eyes  of  the  other,  and  must  have  betrayed  him, 
even  if  the  last  words  of  the  dead  man  had  not 
accused  him. 

California  was  somewhat  wilder  in  those 
days  than  it  is  at  present,  and  men  were  more 
ready  to  act  upon  impulse.  So  it  was  that,  as 
two  of  us  gripped  the  fierce,  red-haired  fellow, 
another  of  the  party  flung  some  whispered 
word  to  the  boy,  who  had  only  spoken  to 
murmur  brokenly,  "  God  knows  I'm  in- 
nocent ! " 

What  that  whispered  word  was  no  one  knew 
save  he  who  spoke  it  and  he  to  whom  it  was  ad- 
dressed. But  whatever  it  might  have  been,  it 
seemed  to  rouse  the  young  man  to  life  and  a 
realisation  of  his  position.  With  a  leap  he  was 
at  the  long  window  and  had  sprung  out  on  to 


PICTURE    FROM    THE    PAST 

a  verandah,  which  ran  round  three  sides  and 
three  stories  of  the  house.  The  room  was  on 
the  first  floor,  and  it  was  easy  enough  for  an 
active  young  fellow  to  let  himself  down  hy  one 
of  the  twisted  pillars  which  supported  the 
verandah  of  the  lower  storey. 

It  could  not  have  been  so  easy  to  escape 
those  who  half-heartedly  followed ;  but  the  boy 
must  have  found  some  safe  sanctuary  near  by, 
for  not  only  did  he  evade  his  pursuers,  but  was 
never  found  or  brought  to  trial. 

The  other,  an  Australian,  calling  himself 
Willis  Collins,  known  as  a  gambler,  suspected 
as  a  card  "  sharper,"  was  less  fortunate.  But 
for  the  cry  of  the  dying  man  he  might  have 
cleared  himself;  but  his  reputation  was  against 
him  to  begin  with ;  it  was  proved  that  the  other 
was  a  young  Englishman  who  had  lost  his 
money  through  Collins,  and  been  duped  by 
him,  and  altogether  matters  went  hardly  with 
the  elder  of  the  two  confederates.  He  was 
tried  and  condemned  (not  for  murder,  as  it 
happened,  but  manslaughter),  and  sentenced 
to  imprisonment  for  twenty  years. 

215 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

The  incident  had  passed  out  my  mind  until, 
on  a  visit  to  America  six  years  later  (four 
years  previous  to  my  present  one) ,  a  man  who 
had  been  of  our  bear-shooting  party  in  the 
Rocky  Mountains  had  chanced  to  mention  that 
the  fellow  had  very  cleverly  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing his  escape  from  the  prison  where  he  had 
been  confined. 

I  had  had  no  personal  interest  in  the  affair, 
and  though  it  had  made  considerable  impres- 
sion upon  me  at  that  time,  through  being  called 
up  at  the  trial  as  a  witness,  I  do  not  suppose 
I  had  summoned  it  to  my  recollection  for  many 
a  long  day  until  now,  at  the  mention  of  the 
Santa  Anna  Hotel. 

It  was  no  wonder,  I  told  myself,  that  I  had 
not  been  able  to  decide  where  and  how  I  had 
seen  Carson  Wildred  previous  to  the  night 
when  Farnham  had  introduced  us  to  each  other 
at  the  theatre.  Unless  I  could  collect  proofs 
not  at  present  in  my  possession,  it  would  even 
now  be  useless  to  instil  my  conviction  into  the 
mind  of  anyone  else. 

Carson  Wildred  had  a  peculiarly  flat  nose; 
216 


PICTURE    FROM    THE    PAST 

Willis  Collins  had  had  a  particularly  high  one. 
Carson  Wildred's  hair  was  inky  black;  Willis 
Collins's  had  been  a  bright  auburn.  Wildred's 
face  was  smooth ;  Collins's  mouth  and  chin  had 
been  concealed  by  a  heavy  though  close- 
cropped  red  beard.  So  far  as  I  knew  there 
was  but  one  man  living  who  could  have 
effected  so  radical  a  change,  not  only  in  the 
appearance,  but  in  the  actual  conformation  of 
features,  in  the  countenance  of  any  human  be- 
ing, and  that  was  an  old  fellow  in  Paris,  who 
had  gained  a  reputation  and  a  fortune  among 
men  who  had  reason  to  cut  loose  from  the 
moorings  of  their  past.  I  had  met  this  famous 
(or  infamous)  person  in  a  curious  way,  and 
had  heard  some  strange  stories  from  his  lips. 
If  I  had  made  his  acquaintance,  why  should 
not  Collins  or  Wildred  have  done  so  and 
profited  by  the  friendship,  as  fortunately  I  had 
neither  the  desire  nor  need  to  do?  I  determined 
that,  unless  my  present  researches  were  more 
successful  than  I  now  dared  expect  them  to  be, 
I  would,  on  my  return  to  the  other  side,  run 
across  to  France,  and  endeavour  to  piece  to- 

217 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

gether  the  bits  of  this  old  but  newly-discovered 
puzzle. 

Meanwhile,  however,  I  had  other  work,  and 
work  closer  at  hand. 

"  While  you've  been  talking,  Mr.  Ben- 
nett," said  I,  "  I  have  been  coming  to  a  con- 
clusion." 

He  smiled.  "  I'm  glad  of  that,  sir,"  he  re- 
turned. "  I  have  risked  betraying  Mr.  Farn- 
ham's  confidence  that  I  may  ask  you  what  you 
think  of  that  last  hint  of  his,  which,  to  tell  the 
truth,  has  troubled  me  very  much,  coming,  as 
it  did,  on  top  of  so  many  queer  actions.  Al- 
though he  was,  or  pretended  to  be,  half  in  joke, 
ought  I  to  let  him  stay  away  without  taking 
any  measures  to  find  out  whether  his  life  really 
was  threatened  in  California,  and  trying  to 
help  him  out  of  a  scrape  if  necessary?  Of 
course,  if  it  was  all  straight  he'd  be  furious  to 
have  a  watch  set  on  his  actions,  and  would 
never  forgive  me  the  indiscretion.  Still,  I 
haven't  heard  from  him,  as  I  said,  since  the 
day  of  his  arrival,  and  neither  my  mind  nor  my 
conscience  is  very  easy,  Mr.  Stanton.  The 

218 


PICTURE    FROM    THE    PAST 

question  is,  What  would  you  do  if  you  were  in 
my  place? " 

I  was  delighted  at  this,  and  turned  half 
away,  that  he  might  not  see  my  change  of 
countenance. 

"  It's  rather  a  difficult  position,"  I  said, 
slowly,  "  for  you.  But  there's  a  simple  way 
out  of  it,  without  the  necessity  for  you  to  run 
any  risk  of  losing  Mr.  Farnham's  favour.  I've 
been  to  the  Santa  Anna  Hotel  before.  There's 
no  reason  why  I  shouldn't  go  again  if  I  choose, 
and  no  reason  why  I  should  mention  having 
spoken  with  you  at  all  if  I  meet  my  old  friend. 
I'm  something  of  a  nomad,  you  know,  and  if 
I'm  in  England  one  month,  and  turn  up  in 
Kamtchatka  the  next,  nobody  is  ever  in  the 
least  surprised." 

"  But  have  you  been  thinking  of  going  to 
California?  "  asked  Bennett,  half  relieved  and 
half  dubious  as  to  the  course  proposed. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I've  been  thinking  of  it,"  I 
promptly  answered.  But  I  neglected  to  add 
that  it  had  only  been  during  the  past  five 
minutes. 

219 


CHAPTER   XXII 

FACE   TO   FACE 

IT  was  very  nearly  dinner  time,  two  days 
later,  when  I  drove  up  to  the  Santa  Anna 
Hotel  in  San  Francisco.  Far  away  the  bay 
could  be  seen  and  the  Seal  Rock,  with  the  light 
of  a  great  yellow  moon  touching  its  dark  out- 
lines and  mingling  with  the  blue,  wintry  twi- 
light. 

The  neighbourhood  was  greatly  changed 
since  my  last  visit,  but  the  hotel  remained  much 
the  same.  My  first  thought,  after  greeting 
the  bluff  old  compatriot  who  kept  the  house, 
was  to  look  at  the  visitors'  book. 

My  heart  gave  a  quick  thump  as  I  came  on 
the  name  of  Harvey  Farnham.  It  was  not  in 
his  handwriting,  which,  though  I  had  not  seen 
it  for  some  time,  I  remembered  quite  distinctly. 

"Ah,  gentleman's  ill,"  said  the  proprietor, 
when  I  cautiously  questioned  him.  "  Had  his 


FACE    TO   FACE 

arm  in  a  sling — got  my  clerk  to  put  his  name 
down  for  him,  I  recollect,  as  I  was  standing 
by.  Mr.  Farnham  has  been  out  a  good  deal, 
however,  since  he  arrived,  and,  indeed,  is  out  at 
present.  He  usually  comes  in  about  dinner 
time  though." 

This  was  an  incentive  to  me  not  to  miss  that 
meal.  I  got  into  my  evening  togs  in  a  hurry 
and  was  in  the  dining-room  before  anyone  else, 
save  a  hungry -looking  old  man. 

It  was  not  a  good  season  for  the  "  Santa 
Anna,"  so  the  proprietor  had  confidentially 
informed  me,  but  two  or  three  dozen  people 
strolled  into  the  room  before  I  had  been  there 
for  half  an  hour.  Still,  I  saw  no  familiar  face, 
and  was  beginning  to  think  in  angry  despera- 
tion that  I  had  been  eluded  again,  when  the 
door  opened  to  admit  a  tall  and  slender  figure. 

I  looked  up,  my  pulses  quickening,  my 
breath  coming  fast. 

The  man  had  a  green  shade  over  his  eyes, 
was  limping  slightly,  had  his  right  arm  in  a 
sling,  and  altogether  presented  a  somewhat 
battered  appearance.  But,  I  said  to  myself, 

221 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

if  it  was  not  Harvey  Farnham  it  was  his  twin 
brother. 

With  all  my  eyes  I  stared  at  him.  Almost 
as  though  there  had  been  some  magnetic  in- 
fluence in  them  to  draw  him  he  came  towards 
me,  and  finally  approaching  my  table,  mo- 
tioned to  the  attentive  waiter  to  draw  out  a 
certain  chair. 

He  sat  down,  leaned  back  with  an  audible 
sigh,  shook  out  his  serviette  with  his  left  hand, 
slightly  pushed  up  the  green  shade  that  shad- 
owed his  eyes,  and  began  looking  carelessly 
about  the  room. 

As  he  did  so  his  glance  passed  over  my  face. 
There  was  not  the  slightest  hint  of  recognition 
in  it.  "  Hullo,  Farnham !  "  I  said,  carefully 
controlling  the  agitation  in  my  voice. 

He  started  violently  and  nearly  dropped  the 
soup  spoon,  which  he  had  picked  up  with  his 
left  hand.  Then,  pulling  himself  together  by 
a  violent  effort,  he  smiled,  without  any  of  the 
old  cordiality.  Almost  mechanically  he  had 
reached  up  for  the  green  shade,  and  given  it 
a  hasty  pull  downward. 

222 


FACE    TO    FACE 

"Hullo!"  he  responded  in  a  hoarse  voice, 
following  the  word  with  a  cough.  ;*  This  is  a 
surprise,  eh? " 

"  Yes,"  I  replied  slowly.  "  People  do  run 
against  each  other  in  unexpected  places,  don't 
they?  Now  I  will  wager  something  that 
you've  forgotten  my  name?  " 

He  smiled  again,  with  a  relieved  expression. 
"  WeU  "— still  hoarsely—"  I'm  afraid  I  have, 
for  a  moment.  It'll  come  back,  no  doubt,  but 
would  you  mind  enlightening  me,  mean- 
while?" 

"  My  name  is  Noel  Stanton,"  I  very  quietly 
said.  But  I  could  have  shouted  aloud.  Not- 
withstanding the  extraordinary  resemblance, 
this  man  was  no  more  Harvey  Farnham  than 
I  was! 


223 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

A   COUNTERFEIT   PRESENTMENT 

WE  had  not  much  talk  together.  The  few 
questions  which  I  cautiously  put  evidently 
rendered  him  uncomfortable,  and  I  on  my  part, 
having  made  sure  of  one  all-potent  fact,  was 
anxious  to  get  away  and  think  the  puzzle  over. 

I  was  at  the  last  course  of  my  dinner  when 
the  man  entered,  and  having  finished  I  rose. 

"  Are  you  stopping  long  in  San  Francisco?  " 
I  asked,  with  my  best  air  of  carelessness. 

"  A  couple  of  days  or  so,"  he  said.  "  See 
you  again  to-morrow,  I  daresay."  It  was 
plain  that  he  was  glad  to  get  rid  of  me.  Natu- 
rally he  was  afraid  of  all  men,  strangers  to 
him,  who  claimed  knowledge  of  him  as  Har- 
vey Farnham.  He  was  playing  a  bold  and 
dangerous  game,  and  no  doubt  he  was  aware 
that,  unless  he  kept  himself  in  hand,  and  never 
for  an  instant  lost  his  presence  of  mind,  any 
moment  might  find  him  beaten. 


COUNTERFEIT  PRESENTMENT 

So  dizzy  was  I  with  the  fumes  of  my  dis- 
covery that  my  brain  would  not  answer  to  my 
command.  I  could  not  think.  I  could  only 
say  over  and  over  again — "  Not  Harvey  Farn- 
ham!  The  fellow  is  a  mere  decoy !" 

Out  in  the  open  I  knew  that  I  should  have 
a  better  chance  of  mastering  myself.  On  the 
way  to  the  door  I  stepped  into  the  "  office " 
again  and  glanced  at  the  visitors'  book.  Har- 
vey Farnham's  name  was  written  down  op- 
posite the  number  249,  and  I  knew,  therefore, 
that  his  room  must  be  near,  and  in  the  same 
wing  in  the  back  as  mine. 

The  glorious  salt  wind  soon  restored  me  to 
myself,  and  I  wandered  through  some  of  the 
streets  I  had  known  and  forgotten,  thinking 
busily.  I  could  understand  much  now  that 
had  been  dark  to  me,  though  even  yet  far 
too  much  for  my  peace  of  mind  remained 
hidden. 

It  was  no  wonder  that  this  counterfeit  pre- 
sentment of  a  dead  man  (for  I  was  certain 
enough  now  that  poor  Farnham  was  dead) 
had  cumbered  himself  with  bandages,  and  sim- 

225 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE    LOCK 

ulated  sprains,  and  thickened  his  voice  with  an 
alleged  bronchitis.  There  was  a  wonderful 
family  likeness  between  voices,  when  they  only 
spoke  in  a  rough  whisper,  and  the  green  shade 
over  the  eyes  had  doubtless  proved  very  ad- 
vantageous in  keeping  up  the  optical  illusion 
on  which  the  man  had  courageously  dared  to 
count,  even  among  Farnham's  Denver  friends. 
To  be  sure  he  had  hurried  away  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible from  every  place  where  he  had  stayed 
since  arriving  at  New  York  on  the  St.  Paul. 
In  each  one  he  had  accomplished  an  object 
vital  to  the  interest  of  the  plot.  He  had  been 
able  to  refute  the  story  of  Harvey  Farnham's 
murder,  in  person,  and  having  evidently  been 
well  grounded  in  all  prominent  facts  con- 
nected with  Farnham's  life,  habits,  and  trip 
to  England,  had  made  a  coup  in  his  interview 
with  the  New  York  police. 

Having  done  all  that  was  necessary  in  the 
east,  he  had  then  taken  the  final  and  most 
hazardous  step  of  going  to  Farnham's  home. 
It  was  hardly  remarkable,  therefore,  that  he 
had  seized  the  opportunity  of  escaping  so  try- 

226 


ing  an  ordeal  at  once.  It  seemed  to  me  im- 
possible that  he  should  intend  returning  to 
Denver,  where,  in  the  light  of  day,  and  among 
old  business  and  domestic  associates,  he  could 
not  long  hope  to  escape  detection,  perfect  as 
the  likeness  seemed  to  be.  What,  then,  would 
he  do,  I  eagerly  asked  myself?  He  had  so  far 
been  successful  in  establishing  the  fact  all  along 
his  route  that  Harvey  Farnham  had  not  only 
returned  in  safety  to  America,  but  had  shown 
himself  at  home.  So  much  having  been  gained, 
Wildred  must  perforce  be  relieved  of  all  sus- 
picion of  the  crime  which  I  had  tried  to  fasten 
upon  him,  and  this  being  the  case,  I  assured 
myself  that  it  was  Wildred's  hand  only  which 
had  contrived  this  intricate  and  ingenious  plot. 
This  man,  disguised  as  Farnham,  was  in  Wil- 
dred's pay,  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  that, 
and  had  in  all  probability  been  engaged  for  the 
purpose  he  was  now  carrying  out  before  the 
murder  had  taken  place. 

I  tried  as  I  walked  to  put  myself  in  the 
place  of  the  schemers,  and  thus  hew  out, 
through  an  intimate  mental  process,  some  idea 

227 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

as  to  how  the  loose  ends  of  the  mystery  were 
to  be  disposed  of. 

"  If  I  were  that  fellow,"  I  said  to  myself 
at  last,  "  I  should  think  it  was  about  time  to 
disappear.  I  should  feel  sure  I'd  come  to  the 
end  of  my  tether,  and  that  somehow  or  other 
Harvey  Farnham,  as  represented  by  me,  had 
got  to  be  unostentatiously  wiped  out." 

Farnham,  however,  was  too  rich  and  impor- 
tant a  man  in  the  western  states  of  his  own 
country  to  disappear  conveniently  and  with  im- 
punity. There  would  be  a  hue  and  cry,  and 
suspicious  facts  might  somehow  be  brought  to 
light.  The  only  safe  way,  I  decided,  would  be 
for  the  alleged  Harvey  Farnham  to  kill  him- 
self; but  this  it  did  not  appear  very  likely  that 
the  most  dazzling  bribe  could  induce  him  to  do. 
He  meant  to  find  some  more  comfortable  way 
out  of  the  hole  into  which  he  had  so  deliberately 
crept  than  the  way  of  suicide,  and  it  began  to 
seem  that  the  only  method  by  which  I  could 
prove  my  case  would  be  by  rinding  out  what 
that  way  was  to  be. 

At  present,  unless  I  could  have  the  fellow 


COUNTERFEIT  PRESENTMENT 

arrested,  and  such  disguise  as  he  might  wear 
dragged  off,  I  should  have  great  difficulty  in 
obtaining  credence  of  my  story.  The  incidents 
were  all  so  remarkable  that  they  must  be  certi- 
fied with  the  best  of  evidence,  and  such  evidence 
as  I  wanted  could  only  be  forthcoming  from 
Bennett,  or  someone  else  in  Denver  who  knew 
Farnham  equally  well. 

What  I  must  do,  I  thought,  would  be  to 
keep  on  the  man's  track,  and  never  for  an  hour 
lose  sight  of  him.  I  must  do  this  without 
arousing  any  suspicion  on  his  part  as  to  my 
motives  until  the  last  moment,  when  I  should 
be  prepared  to  accuse  him. 

This  conclusion  naturally  reminded  me  that 
at  the  very  moment  it  was  reached  I  had  vir- 
tually lost  sight  of  my  quarry,  and  that  already 
I  might  have  missed  my  chance.  Accordingly, 
I  hurried  back  to  the  Santa  Anna  Hotel,  and 
though  it  was  then  too  late  to  wire  Bennett,  I 
determined  to  do  so  early  the  next  morning. 
I  would  request  him  to  come  on  to  San  Fran- 
cisco at  once  on  a  matter  of  extreme  impor- 
tance, and — his  mind  being  already  disturbed 

229 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

concerning  his  employer — he  would  lose  no 
time  in  obeying.  In  Bennett,  if  I  could  fairly 
corner  the  bogus  Farnham,  I  should  have  the 
most  valuable  witness  in  the  world. 

My  first  question  was  as  to  whether  Mr. 
Farnham  were  in  the  hotel.  He  had  not  yet 
returned  from  a  call  which  he  had  gone  to  make 
after  dinner,  and  I  sat  down,  therefore,  in  the 
corridor  inside  the  front  doors,  through  which 
he  would  have  to  pass  on  entering. 

I  pretended  to  be  absorbed  in  a  local  paper, 
but  in  reality  my  thoughts  were  a  maelstrom. 
Suppose  he  had  already  escaped  me  1 

At  half -past  eleven,  however,  he  came  in.  I 
did  not  seem  to  lift  my  eyes  from  the  pages 
before  them.  He  would  have  to  go  directly 
by  me  on  his  way  upstairs ;  time  enough  to  ap- 
pear to  observe  him  then. 

"Cablegram  for  you,  Mr.  Farnham,"  said 
the  clerk  of  the  hotel. 

"Ah!"  The  exclamation  was  one  of  sur- 
prise. He  had  not,  then,  been  expecting  the 
message. 

I  could  not  resist  looking  up  after  all  to 
230 


COUNTERFEIT  PRESENTMENT 

watch  him  in  the  act  of  reading  it,  and  as  I 
did  so  my  eyes  caught  a  gleam  from  his,  under 
the  green  shade,  as  they  turned  to  my  face 
with  an  expression  that  was  like  a  hunted  ani- 
mal's. In  the  instant  I  was  as  positive  as 
though  he  had  told  me  in  so  many  words  that 
the  cablegram  he  had  received  was  from  Car- 
son Wildred,  and  intimately  concerned  me. 
Probably  it  said,  "  If  a  man  named  Noel  Stan- 
ton  turns  up,  he  is  an  enemy — beware  of  him." 

I  regretted  immediately  that  I  had  given 
him  my  real  name  when  we  met  at  dinner,  for, 
warned  now  by  Wildred,  he  would  be  ever  on 
his  guard.  He  was  seized  with  a  creditable  fit 
of  coughing  as  he  passed  me,  and  having 
growled  out  something  about  being  "  deuced 
tired,  and  sleeping  like  a  log,"  he  went  upstairs. 

I  followed  him  in  time  to  see  him  enter  his 
own  room,  which  was  only  half  a  dozen  doors 
from  mine,  and  to  hear  him  noisily  lock  the 
door.  It  occurred  to  me  that  he  was  desirous 
to  have  me  know  that  he  had  locked  it,  and  I 
wondered  if  already  he  had  begun  to  suspect 
my;  motive. 

231 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

FIBE! 

I  WENT  to  bed  determined  not  to  sleep,  but 
to  keep  my  ears  open  for  any  sound  in  the  pass- 
age outside.  Luckily  there  was  a  creaky  board 
on  which  he  had  stepped  a  few  minutes  ago. 
If  he  attempted  to  go  away  during  the  night 
he  would  very  possibly  step  on  it  again.  But 
I  was  exceedingly  tired  after  my  long  journey. 
Before  I  had  been  in  bed  an  hour  I  was  dream- 
ing so  vividly  a  pursuit  of  my  quarry  through 
the  streets  of  San  Francisco,  that  I  fully  be- 
lieved I  had  waked,  got  up,  and  gone  out  after 
him. 

In  the  end  the  dream  seemed  to  change. 
The  pretender  had  boarded  a  railway  train, 
and  I  was  with  the  engine-driver  of  another, 
following  at  a  dare-devil  speed.  The  place  was 
reeking  hot.  In  my  dream  I  choked  in  the 
smoke  which  flew  into  my  face,  and  was  dazzled 
with  the  red  glare  of  the  fire,  on  which  the 

232 


FIRE! 

engine-driver  was  piling  great  pieces  of  fat 
bacon.  As  we  flew  along  the  rails  the  locomo- 
tive swayed  from  side  to  side,  and  I  could  hear 
a  loud  rattling  of  wheels  and  of  window  glass. 

Suddenly  a  puff  of  smoke  seemed  on  the 
very  point  of  stifling  me,  and  I  awoke  to  find 
myself  sitting  up  in  bed  and  gasping  for 
breath. 

I  had  not  dreamed  the  rattling  of  glass,  nor 
the  jarring  sensation,  nor  yet  the  smoke  and 
heat  and  lurid  light.  The  walls  shook  with  a 
dull  vibration,  and  the  window-panes  were  like 
castanets.  Through  the  glass  transom  over  the 
door  I  could  see  a  shimmering,  ruddy  glow  that 
rose  and  fell,  and  was  brightened  by  bursting 
sparks  and  little  darting  tongues  of  yellow 
flame.  Apart  from  this  one  lurid  spot  all  was 
thickly  curtained  into  darkness  by  a  heavy  pall 
of  smoke. 

Had  I  lain  for  a  few  moments  longer  I  must 
have  suffocated  in  my  sleep.  Even  as  it  was, 
my  brain  felt  dull  and  stupid,  and  I  could 
scarcely  collect  my  senses. 

Choking  and  coughing,  tears  running  from 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

my  eyes  that  smarted  with  the  pungent  wood 
smoke,  I  sprang  out  of  bed,  and  then  sat  down 
again  with  a  slight  exclamation,  drawing  up 
my  feet.  The  floor  was  so  hot  that  the  touch 
of  it,  even  for  an  instant,  had  almost  scorched 
my  skin. 

Close  at  hand  were  my  boots.  I  drew  them 
on  and  then  fumbled  about  for  one  or  two 
articles  of  clothing.  The  wild  light  that  rushed 
past  the  transom  told  me  that  escape  by  way 
of  the  passage  was  already  cut  off,  and  even 
as  I  looked  a  small,  curling  tress  of  flame  blew 
in  through  the  crack  between  the  door  and  the 
worn  sill. 

The  window  was  less  easy  to  find.  As  I 
felt  for  it  through  the  veil  of  smoke  strange 
conjectures  stole  into  my  brain.  What  if  this 
were  the  plan  of  Carson  Wildred's  wily  ac- 
complice for  getting  safely  rid  of  me  ? 

I  had  no  intention  of  being  got  rid  of  thus 
easily,  however.  I  found  the  window  and 
opened  the  lower  sash.  With  the  rush  of  air 
from  outside  my  oppressed  lungs  got  relief  for 
a  second  or  two,  but  the  draught  drew  in  the 

234 


FIRE! 

flames  that  rioted  through  the  hall;  the  glass 
in  the  transom,  already  cracked,  burst  with  a 
loud  explosive  sound,  and  a  torrent  of  fire  and 
smoke  poured  in  through  the  aperture. 

Had  I  not  leaped  on  to  the  window-sill,  and 
without  an  instant's  hesitation  let  myself  swing 
over,  I  could  not  have  kept  my  senses  in  that 
raging  furnace. 

If  I  had  had  a  room  in  the  main  building  of 
the  hotel,  I  should  only  have  had  to  step  on  to 
a  verandah  outside  my  window,  but  in  this 
wing  (which  I  had  chosen  as  my  place  of  resi- 
dence because  I  had  inhabited  it  before)  there 
was  nothing  of  the  sort,  and  I  had  now  the 
space  of  about  ten  seconds  to  decide  whether 
to  jump  or  have  my  hands  burnt  off  my  wrists. 

In  any  case  the  decision  could  not  have  been 
a  difficult  one,  but,  as  it  happened,  the  need 
was  rendered  the  more  imperative  by  the  fact 
that  smoke  had  already  begun  to  pour  from 
the  window  below.  Very  shortly  escape  would 
be  cut  off  in  all  directions. 

My  room  was  on  the  second  floor,  high 
enough  to  give  me  a  severe  fall,  perhaps  a 

235 


fatal  one,  and  I  felt  that  my  life  was  of  value 
now.  Cautiously  but  hurriedly  I  reached  out 
with  one  hand  to  the  side  of  the  window,  hang- 
ing with  all  my  weight  from  the  other,  which 
clutched  the  sill.  My  groping  fingers  came  in 
contact  with  a  twisted  rope  of  creepers;  bare 
of  leaves  for  winter,  and  serviceable  for  the  use 
I  wished  to  put  it  to.  I  grasped  the  thick  stems 
for  dear  life,  and  went  down  hand  over  hand, 
dimly  hearing  voices  from  below  cheering  me 
in  my  descent. 

I  had  been  unconscious  of  the  noise  until 
that  moment,  but  as  my  feet  touched  the 
ground  I  was  received  with  acclamations,  and 
saw  that  a  crowd  was  rapidly  collecting  on  the 
spot.  The  firemen  were  arriving,  and  as  I 
reached  terra  firma  a  great  spout  of  water  went 
up  over  the  burning  wing. 

The  main  portion  of  the  house,  which  was 
built  of  stone,  save  for  the  surrounding  veran- 
dahs, was  still  uninjured,  but  the  wing  at  the 
back,  which  had  been  a  later  addition,  run 
hastily  up  to  meet  the  needs  of  business,  was  of 
frame,  and  it  was  burning  like  tinder.  Though 

236 


FIRE! 

it  seemed  that  the  alarm  had  only  been  given 
five  minutes  before  my  appearance  on  the 
scene,  already  it  was  beyond  saving.  My  rea- 
son for  preferring  the  wing  I  have  already 
stated,  but  what  the  pretended  Harvey  Farn- 
ham's  had  been  I  had  yet  to  learn,  for  so  far 
was  the  main  portion  of  the  hotel  from  being 
crowded  on  this  occasion,  that  we  two  had  been 
the  only  ones  who  slept  in  the  annex.  Other- 
wise the  alarm  must  have  been  given  from  in- 
side, instead  of  by  a  policeman,  who  had  seen 
a  sudden  light  leap  up  while  passing  on  his 
beat. 

Where  was  Mr.  Farnham?  That  was  the 
question  asked  by  the  excited  landlord,  who, 
half-dressed,  had  come  out  to  give  what  help 
he  could.  By  this  time  a  sheet  of  flame  was 
pouring  from  his  windows,  so  much  more  vio- 
lent than  in  any  other  portion  of  the  fated 
wing,  that  I  could  but  fancy,  as  I  looked  up, 
that  the  fire  must  have  started  thereabouts. 

The  only  hope  was  to  save  the  main  building 
— the  frame  addition  had  been  doomed  from 
the  first.  Everyone  had  come  out,  guests  and 

237 


THE    HOUSE    BY   THE    LOCK 

servants  alike,  in  varying  stages  of  deshabille, 
which  might  under  ordinary  circumstances  have 
struck  one  as  comic  enough,  but  the  supposed 
Farnham  was  nowhere  to  be  seen. 

When  it  became  known  that  there  was  an- 
other occupant  of  the  burning  annex,  the  fire- 
men made  heroic  efforts  to  reach  the  windows 
on  their  ladders,  but  each  time  they  were 
beaten  back  by  the  blinding  flame  and  smoke 
— a  salamander  could  not  have  existed  there 
for  an  instant. 

Murmurs  of  horror  and  dismay  came  from 
the  lips  of  the  crowd  as  they  stared  with  a 
species  of  fearful  fascination  at  the  flames, 
which  must  long  ago  have  destroyed  not  only 
life,  but  all  vestiges  of  humanity,  if  indeed  a 
human  being  had  been  there  when  they  began 
their  revel.  But  I  said  nothing.  I  thought 
now  that  I  understood  the  reason  why  my 
friend  had  taken  the  room  in  the  frame  addi- 
tion to  the  Santa  Anna  Hotel.  The  plan  com- 
menced to  take  form  in  my  mind,  and  I  be- 
lieved that  the  cablegram  had  only  precipitated 
its  execution. 

238 


CHAPTER   XXV 


"  IT'S  DOGGED   AS  DOES   IT  " 


FOBTUNATELY,  to  prevent  delay  and  tempo- 
rary embarrassment,  there  was  plenty  of  gold 
for  present  needs  in  the  pockets  of  the  one 
garment  which  I  had  put  on  before  escaping. 
Everything  else  which  I  had  brought  to  the 
Santa  Anna  Hotel  was  lost;  but  never,  per- 
haps, was  a  man  more  completely  indifferent 
to  such  loss  than  I.  The  only  thing  on  the 
American  side  of  the  Atlantic  which  now  in- 
terested me  was  to  find  out  whether  the  false 
Harvey  Farnham  had  actually  (by  an  irony 
of  fate)  perished  in  the  flames,  or  whether — 
as  I  more  than  suspected — he  himself  was  re- 
sponsible for  the  fire. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  ascertain  the  truth 
until  such  time  as  the  ruins  of  the  burnt  wing 
of  the  hotel  should  have  sufficiently  cooled  to 
render  a  search  practicable.  Even  then,  if  no 
other  measures  were  taken,  the  fact  might 

239 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

never  be  absolutely  substantiated.  If  nothing 
more  was  ever  heard  of  Harvey  Farnham,  it 
would  probably  be  taken  for  granted  that  he 
had  met  his  death  in  the  fire  at  the  Santa  Anna 
Hotel,  even  though  no  actual  traces  of  his 
body  were  forthcoming.  His  heirs,  whoever 
they  might  be,  would  doubtless  claim  their  in- 
heritance, and  even  assurance  money,  if  such 
there  were  to  be  had,  before  many  months  had 
passed.  Carson  Wildred  would  be  for  ever 
safe,  and  my  quest  would  have  ended  in  noth- 
ing but  bitterness  and  disappointment. 

This  being  the  case,  I  could  not  aff ord  to 
wait  until  the  burnt  building  should  be  ran- 
sacked for  Harvey  Farnham's  remains,  I  must 
take  it  for  granted  that  no  such  remains  were 
there,  and  go  in  search  of  the  living,  breathing 
body.  I  tried  to  put  myself  mentally  in  place 
of  the  man  who  had  stolen  his  identity  from  the 
dead.  Were  I  he,  I  thought,  and  had  I  done 
that  of  which  I  believed  he  had  been  guilty, 
I  would  lose  no  time  in  putting  myself  beyond 
the  reach  of  possible  pursuit.  I  would  have 
laid  my  plans  with  some  exactitude,  and  would 

240 


have  been  prepared  for  the  necessity  of  flight. 
I  would  have  thrown  aside  as  many  details  of 
my  likeness  to  Harvey  Farnham  as  nature  had 
not  provided  me  with,  and  having  set  fire  to 
the  room  I  had  occupied,  I  would  have  got  out 
of  the  hotel  as  quietly  and  quickly  as  practi- 
cable. If  it  had  been  comparatively  easy  for 
me  to  escape  by  means  of  the  creepers  down 
the  side  of  the  house,  the  same  means  might 
well  have  been  employed  by  the  man  whose 
movements  I  was  mentally  trying  to  follow. 

Success  having  attended  my  movements  so 
far,  I  should  have  gone  straight  to  a  railway 
station,  and  would  never  have  breathed  freely 
until  I  had  left  San  Francisco  well  behind  me. 

So  wise,  under  the  given  circumstances,  did 
this  course  of  action  seem  to  me,  that  I 
promptly  decided  no  other  would  have  been 
feasible.  The  thing  for  me  to  do,  therefore,, 
was  to  find  out  what  trains  left  San  Fran- 
cisco during  the  night  time.  I  thought  I  might 
calculate  upon  the  fellow's  having  boarded  a 
passenger  train  in  an  open  and  ordinary  man- 
ner ;  as,  if  his  plans  had  been  properly  laid,  no 


THF CHOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

suspicion  could  attach  to  him,  and  there  would 
be  no  necessity  for  more  desperate  precautions. 

He  could  have  had  a  good  start  before  the 
fire  spread  and  was  discovered,  and — still  tak- 
ing it  for  granted  that  I  was  correct  in  my  de- 
ductions— the  sooner  I  was  on  his  track  the 
better.  My  hands  were  burned,  I  was  prac- 
tically without  clothes,  and  had  suffered  a  con- 
siderable nervous  shock,  which  at  another  time 
I  might  have  had  leisure  to  feel  and  analyse. 

But  I  did  neither  at  the  present  juncture. 
I  simply  procured  a  stiff  portion  of  brandy 
neat,  drank  it  at  a  gulp,  purchased  a  few 
articles  of  clothing  from  an  accommodating 
waiter,  dressed  myself  with  all  speed,  and  set 
off  to  the  principal  railway  station,  or  "  depot," 
of  San  Francisco. 

"  It's  dogged  as  does  it,"  I  quoted  to  myself, 
with  a  certain  grimness  of  resolution,  when  my; 
spirits  began  to  flag. 

As  I  got  inside  the  station  there  was  a 
certain  bustle  and  stir  of  departure  or  arrival 
in  the  air.  "  Train  going  out  or  coming  in?  " 
I  asked  shortly  of  a  sleepy  porter. 


"IT'S   DOGGED  AS   DOES"         *' 


"  Going  out  —  Salt  Lake  City,"  grumbled 
the  man  in  reply. 

I  don't  know  why  I  instantly  felt  the  con- 
viction that  the  bogus  Farnham  was  in  that 
train,  but  I  did  feel  it,  and  so  intensely  that 
when  I  saw  the  long  line  of  cars  beginning  to 
move  it  seemed  to  me  that  not  to  reach  it  and 
jump  on  board  would  mean  the  ruin  of  my 
life. 

I  have  a  dim  recollection  of  persons  shouting 
at  me,  of  feeling  a  detaining  hand  trying  to 
drag  me  back.  I  remember,  too,  thrashing  out 
with  considerable  force,  ridding  myself  of  my 
would-be  preserver.  I  caught  on  by  the  rear 
platform,  and  after  flying  helplessly  for  an 
instant  like  a  ribbon  in  the  wind  as  the  train 
increased  its  speed,  I  got  a  foothold  and 
climbed  up  the  steps. 

At  the  top  was  a  negro  night  porter,  ash- 
coloured  with  fright.  He  helped  to  pull  me 
on  board,  and  I  tipped  him  generously  (when 
I  began  to  regain  my  breath  and  scattered 
wits)  for  agreeing  not  to  make  an  excitement 
by  reporting  the  affair  to  the  conductor. 

243 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

I  panted  out  that  I  wanted  a  berth,  found 
that  there  would  be  a  vacant  one  on  board  the 
"  sleeper  "  at  my  disposal,  and  sat  down  in  the 
smoking-room,  ostensibly  to  wait  while  the  bed 
was  made  up  for  me. 

I  must  have  been  a  curious  object  to  look 
upon  in  my  dishevelled  and  hybrid  costume, 
not  an  article  of  which,  save  the  boots  and 
trousers,  had  been  made  for  me.  But  I  had  no 
thoughts  to  waste  upon  my  own  appearance. 
I  sat  wondering  at  the  unhesitating  way  in 
which  I  had  rushed  ahead,  and  staked  my  all 
on  this  one  throw  of  the  dice,  so  to  say.  If  my 
man  had  not  left  San  Francisco,  or  if  he  had 
left,  and  in  another  direction,  in  great  prob- 
ability I  had  lost  all  trace  of  him  for  ever. 
Yet  I  had  flung  myself  on  board  this  train  as 
though  I  had  had  my  quarry  in  my  eye,  and 
had  but  to  put  out  my  hand  to  lay  hold  upon 
him.  I  was  now  beginning  to  be  very  much 
astonished  at  myself. 

Having  come  on  board,  however,  I  would 
at  once  begin  a  tour  of  exploration,  I  resolved, 
going  from  one  end  of  the  train  to  the  other, 

244 


"IT'S   DOGGED   AS    DOES    IT' 

and  not  forgetting  a  visit   (with  or  without 
leave)  to  the  "  cab  "  of  the  engine. 

I  rose,  pulling  myself  together,  and  saying 
again  between  my  teeth,  "  Yes,  it's  dogged  as 
does  it,"  when  a  man  came  into  the  smoking- 
room.  I  had  been  alone  before. 

We  looked  at  each  other.  He  was  a  tall, 
slim,  young  fellow,  with  a  smooth  face.  At 
sight  of  me  he  stopped  short,  flushed  to  the 
roots  of  his  close-cropped  hair,  and  would 
precipitately  have  retired  had  I  not  taken  one 
quick  step  forward  and  grasped  him  by  the 
shoulder. 

Gone  was  the  curly  wig,  the  beard,  and  the 
lump  on  the  nose,  which  had  been  modelled 
after  Farnham's;  gone  was  the  green  shade, 
the  sling,  and  the  limp,  but  much  of  the  odd 
resemblance,  which  had  been  heightened  in  so 
artistic  a  manner,  still  remained.  At  last,  after 
crossing  an  ocean  and  a  continent  to  do  it,  I 
had  got  my  hands  on  the  man  I  had  come  to 
find,  and  I  didn't  mean  to  let  him  go. 

Yes,  it  certainly  had  been  "  dogged  "  that 
had  done  it. 

245 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

A  TELL-TALE   ORNAMENT 

"  No,  you  don't! "  I  remarked,  cheerfully, 
and  with  the  force  of  superior  muscles  I  pulled 
him  towards  me.  "  Come,  sit  down  here  hy 
me,"  I  said.  "  I  want  to  talk  to  you."  And 
somehow  it  came  about  that  we  subsided  on 
the  cushioned  seat  together. 

He  had  recognised  me,  of  course,  as  the  man 
he  had  seen  in  the  hotel — the  man,  Noel  Stan- 
ton,  against  whom  I  did  not  doubt  his  cable- 
gram had  warned  him.  He  was  pale  as  death, 
and  I  could  see  that  this  meeting,  added,  like 
the  piling  of  Ossa  upon  Pelion,  on  top  of 
all  that  he  had  already  gone  through,  had 
robbed  him  of  the  shattered  remnant  of  his 
nerve. 

Still,  he  was  ready  to  "  bluff  "  and  brave  it 
out  while  he  could.  "  Confound  you!  "  he  ex- 
claimed. "What  are  you  about?  You  must 

246 


A   TELL-TALE    ORNAMENT 

be  mad  to  attack  a  stranger  without  the  slight- 
est provocation.  Let  me  alone,  sir,  or  I'll  rouse 
the  car." 

"  I  wouldn't,  you  know,  if  I  were  you,"  I 
said  coolly,  for  the  more  excited  he  grew  the 
more  did  my  own  calmness  come  back  to  me. 
'  You've  been  playing  a  dangerous  game  ever 
since  you  took  your  passage  in  the  American 
liner  St.  Paul  (or,  rather,  since  Carson  Wil- 
dred  took  it  for  you),  but  you've  never,  per- 
haps, steered  so  close  to  the  wind  as  to-night, 
when  you  resorted  to  incendiarism  as  a  finish- 
ing stroke." 

The  fellow  stared  at  me  in  simulated  non- 
chalance and  defiance,  but  my  hand  was  on 
his  shoulder  still,  and  I  could  feel  the  shudder 
that  ran  through  his  body. 

"  I  say  you  must  be  mad,"  he  reiterated. 

"  So  you  observed  before ;  but  I  could  very 
easily  prove  to  you  that  I'm  not,  if  you  were 
not  already  sure  of  it.  You  can  call  for  as- 
sistance if  you  like,  but  if  you  do  the  story  I've 
got  to  tell  will  go  flashing  over  the  wires  back 
to  'Frisco,  and  on  to  Denver,  and  you  will  find 

247 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

yourself  in  almost  as  hot  a  place  as  if  you  had 
stayed  at  the  Santa  Anna  Hotel,  where  you 
wanted  the  world  to  think  that  poor  Harvey 
Farnham  had  been  roasted." 

Once  more  the  fit  of  shivering  seized  him. 
'He  glanced  wildly  about,  as  though  to  find 
some  means  of  escape,  but  there  was  none. 

"  I  am  a  bigger  man  and  a  stronger  man 
than  you,"  I  remarked,  in  a  significant  and  re- 
flective manner.  "  Better  hear  the  alternative 
I've  got  to  offer.  I  know  everything,  you  see 
— that  is,  everything  that  concerns  you,  and 
the  curious  game  you've  been  playing. 

"  I've  been  just  three  days  behind  you  ev- 
erywhere since  you  left  New  York.  I've  got 
every  link  in  the  evidence  now,  and  what  with 
Bennett,  of  Denver,;  and  the  proprietor  of  the 
Santa  Anna  Hotel,  and  a  few  others,  I  can 
burst  your  wretched  little  soap  bubble  plot  in 
four-and- twenty  hours.  There's  just  one  way 
in  which  you  can  stay  my  hand." 

"  What's  that? "  He  had  spoken  out  im- 
pulsively, before  he  had  stopped  to  think.  The 
instant  the  words  were  uttered  he  saw  all  that 

248 


A   TELL-TALE    ORNAMENT 

they  admitted,  and  bit  his  lip.    But  it  was  too 
late ;  he  was  completely  trapped. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  I  said,  keeping  my  hand  on 
his  shoulder,  almost  caressingly.  "  I'd  listen 
attentively,  if  I  were  in  your  place.  What  you 
can  do  is  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  your  story 
from  beginning  to  end.  I'm  willing  to  pay 
you  more  for  confessing  than  Wildred  did  for 
plotting.  Then  you  must  go  back  to  England 
with  me,  and  stand  by  while  the  thing  is  made 
public." 

As  I  spoke  he  did  not  once  take  his  eyes 
from  me.  It  was  remarkable  even  yet,  now 
that  he  was  out  of  his  disguise,  how  strong  his 
likeness  was  to  Farnham.  He  might  have  been 
a  younger  brother. 

When  I  had  finished  he  sighed  and  drooped 
his  head.  His  own  hair,  which  was  very  closely 
cut,  was  of  a  beautiful  reddish  golden  colour, 
much  the  shade  of  Karine  Cunningham's,  as 
the  light  fell  on  it  from  above.  I  thought  of 
her  with  a  great  wave  of  passionate  love,  and 
more  of  hope  than  I  had  dared  to  feel  for 
many  a  long  day. 

249 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

Perhaps  it  was  the  recollection  of  her  lovely 
face  and  the  wonderful  halo  of  her  hair  which 
caused  me  for  an  instant  to  relax  my  grasp. 
I  only  became  conscious  of  having  done  so 
when  the  fellow  twisted  himself  from  under 
my  hand,  and  springing  lithely  to  his  feet 
would  have  darted  through  the  swing  door  had 
I  not  leaped  after  him  like  a  tiger. 

We  fought  together  as  the  car  swayed  and 
bounded  along  its  tracks.  Once  he  dived  under 
my  arm  and  was  almost  out  of  my  clutches, 
but  I  caught  him  by  the  collar  with  so  fierce 
a  grip  that  the  linen  of  his  shirt  tore,  and  the 
garment  ripped  open  to  the  waistcoat. 

Something  which  he  wore  beneath  snapped, 
as  he  still  struggled  to  escape  me,  and  a  bright 
object  flashed  under  my  eyes  as  it  fell,  and 
dropped  with  a  slight  metallic  noise  to  the 
floor. 

Evidently  it  was  to  him  an  article  of  value. 
Impulsively  he  stooped,  forgetful  for  a  second 
of  the  object  which  had  animated  him,  and  thus 
the  advantage  became  all  mine  again.  I  had 
him  pinioned  fast. 

250 


A   TELL-TALE    ORNAMENT 

At  our  feet,  I  now  had  time  to  observe,  lay 
a  broken  gold  chain  and  a  locket. 

Twisting  my  hand  firmly  in  his  collar  I  bent 
over  and  picked  up  the  ornaments.  "  Allow 
me,"  I  said,  smiling.  And  as  I  was  about  to 
put  the  locket  in  his  hand  I  could  not  avoid 
seeing  the  portrait  that  it  framed.  It  was  an 
open-faced,  old-fashioned  thing,  set  round 
with  a  rim  of  pearls.  The  crystal  had  been 
cracked  across  in  the  fall,  but  the  delicately 
painted  ivory  miniature  within  was  intact,  and 
I  gave  a  slight  exclamation  as  I  saw  that  it 
represented  Karine  Cunningham. 

If  I  had  been  surprised  to  see  her  picture  in 
the  "  studio  "  at  the  House  by  the  Lock,  I  was 
doubly  surprised  to  see  it  in  a  locket  worn  by 
a  young  desperado  on  the  other  side  of  the 
world.  Impulsively  I  withdrew  my  hand 
which  held  the  ornament,  with  the  feeling  that 
the  man  had  no  right  to  it — that  I  could  not 
return  it  to  him  again. 

"  Give  it  back  to  me! "  he  ejaculated,  for- 
getting his  evident  fear  of  me  for  the  first  time, 
and  speaking  with  a  certain  manly  fierceness 

261 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

that  thawed  the  chill  of  my  contempt  for  him. 
"  If  I've  got  a  right  to  nothing  else  on  earth, 
I've  got  a  right  to  that.  It's  a  portrait  of  my 
sister." 

"  Your  sister!    You  swear  that? " 

"  Of  course  I  swear  it.  I  don't  see  why 
you  shouldn't  know  it — though  I  haven't  done 
much  credit  to  the  name  of  Cunningham." 

I  could  not  doubt  him.  Not  that  I  had  not 
every  reason  to  believe  that  he  would  be  willing 
to  lie  as  fast  as  he  could  speak  if  it  happened 
to  suit  his  purpose,  but  the  ring  of  sincerity  in 
his  voice  was  unmistakable. 

I  let  go  my  hold  upon  him.  Such  was  his 
astonishment  at  the  manoeuvre  that  he  made 
no  attempt  to  take  advantage  of  his  freedom, 
but  simply  stood  still  and  stared  at  me. 

"  Here  is  the  locket,"  I  said.  "  I  came  from 
England  to  California  to  serve  Miss  Cunning- 
ham's interests,  and  I  will  not  lay  my  hand 
upon  her  brother." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  he  said, 
sullenly. 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  I  returned,  "  if  you'll  sit 


A   TELL-TALE    ORNAMENT 

down  here  and  listen  to  me  for  a  few  minutes 
longer.  After  that,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
you  are  free  to  do  as  you  choose.  You  look 
surprised — but  whatever  may  have  been  your 
faults  and  your  offences,  I  would  stake  my  life 
you  love  your  sister." 

"  She  is  the  only  being  on  earth  I  do  love," 
he  replied,  still  half  dazedly. 

Then  he  sat  down,  his  eyes  furtively  on  me, 
and  I  seated  myself  beside  him. 

"  She  is  sacrificing  herself  for  someone,"  I 
remarked.  "  I  think  I  begin  dimly  to  under- 
stand now  who  that  someone  may  be.  I  think, 
too,  that  circumstances  have  given  me  the  right 
to  be  inquisitive,  as  I  can  still  further  explain 
to  you  later  on.  Is  Miss  Cunningham  going 
to  marry  Carson  Wildred  to  save  you  from 
any  unpleasant  consequences  of  the  past,  for 
instance  ? " 

He  started  as  though  he  had  been  struck. 

"  She  is  not  going  to  marry  Carson  Wil- 
dred! "  he  exclaimed. 

"  Oh,  yes,  she  is,  unless  it  can  be  prevented. 
I  see  I  have  even  more  to  tell  you  than  I 

253 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

thought.  Is  it  long,  may  I  ask,  since  you  have 
seen  your  sister? " 

"  Last  November,"  he  said  drooping  his 
head,  and  bringing  under  my  eyes  again  the 
hair  that  was  like  hers. 

"  Ah,  that  explains  your  ignorance.  The 
man  had  not  shown  his  hand  at  that  time. 
Now  I  am  going  to  trust  to  your  affection  for 
Miss  Cunningham,  to  your  presumable  wish  to 
save  her  from  unhappiness,  and  talk  to  you 
as  though  we  had  been  allies  instead  of  enemies. 
Perhaps  I  may  be  a  fool  for  my  pains;  but 
something  seems  to  say  to  me " 

"  Something  says  right.  Go  on!  "  he  ejacu- 
lated, gruffly. 

No  doubt  the  very  most  dunder-headed  of 
lawyers  or  detectives  would  have  told  me  that 
I  was  mad,  thus  deliberately  to  give  all  my 
good  trumps  away  to  the  treacherous,  hired 
scoundrel  whom  I  had  been  hunting  down  with 
the  dogged  ferocity  of  a  bloodhound.  On 
principle,  of  course,  I  was  all  wrong,  and  I 
knew  it;  but  still  I  went  on. 

I  told  him  the  strange  story  of  the  past  fevr 
254 


A   TELL-TALE    ORNAMENT 

weeks  from  beginning  to  end.  I  commenced 
with  the  part  which  concerned  Farnham  and 
Carson  Wildred  alone.  I  did  not  pass  over 
that  which  had  to  do  with  Karine,  my  hopeless 
and  unrequited  love  for  her,  my  passionate 
anxiety  to  serve  her  at  all  costs;  and  I  ended 
by  declaring  my  certainty  that  Carson  Wildred 
and  Willis  Collins  were  one  and  the  same  man. 

"  He  is  doubly  a  murderer,"  I  said.  "  And 
yet,  unless  you  and  I  together  can  keep  him 
from  it,  he  will  be  your  sister's  husband." 

"I'll  kill  him  first!"  exclaimed  my  com- 
panion. 

"  I  think  the  trick  can  be  done  without  re- 
sorting to  such  extreme  measures  as  that,"  I  re- 
turned, "  especially  if  you  are  willing  to  come 
over  from  his  camp  to  mine." 

He  looked  at  me  sharply  for  a  moment  with- 
out answering,  then  he  said: 

*  You  seem  pretty  quick,  I've  noticed,  in 
what  you've  just  been  telling  me  at  putting 
two  and  two  together.  Well,  you  say  you  were 
at  the  Santa  Anna  Hotel  the  night  the  mur- 
der was  committed  ten  years  ago.  You  knew 

255 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

there  were  two  men  mixed  up  in  it.  You  re- 
membered one  of  them;  would  you  remember 
the  other?" 

"  He  was  a  mere  boy,"  I  said,  "  and  it's  a 
long  time  ago.  He  must  have  changed  almost 
beyond  recognition." 

"He's  just  twenty-nine  at  present;  I've 
good  reason  to  know,  as  I'm  he." 

It  was  my  turn  to  be  astonished,  but  it  was 
not  policy  to  show  it.  Therefore  I  merely  said, 
"Oh,  indeed!" 

"  You  see,"  he  went  on  dully,  "  that's  where 
Wildred  has  had  his  pull  over  me  since  he  ran 
across  me,  by  a  piece  of  devil's  own  luck,  in 
Canada  five  years  ago.  As  you  say,  I  have 
changed;  but  his  eyes  are  like  gimlets,  they'd 
pierce  a  stone  wall.  It's  quite  true,  as  you  sus- 
pected, that  he  and  Collins  are  one.  I  knew 
him  by  a  queer  scar  on  his  hand,  shaped  like  a 
star — perhaps  you've  observed  it?  But  he 
didn't  mind.  He  seemed  even  to  find  a  sort 
of  pleasure  in  telling  me  how  he  had  been  to  a 
clever  fellow  in  Paris,  and  got  himself  made 
over  into  another  man,  so  that  he  might  the 

256 


A    TELL-TALE    ORNAMENT 

more  easily  turn  his  back  upon  various  little 
episodes  of  the  past.  I  couldn't  have  proved 
it  if  I'd  wanted  to,  he  was  so  different,  and  had 
worked  up  such  a  new  record  for  himself  to 
travel  on.  He  knew  that,  and  he  knew,  too, 
that  I  was  in  his  power." 

"  I  don't  exactly  see  how  that  came  about," 
I  objected. 

.  "  Don't  you?  You're  not  so  quick  as  usual, 
then.  I'd  been  accused  of  the  murder  at  the 
Santa  Anna  Hotel.  I  hooked  it,  and  got  over 
to  Mexico,  so  to  Spain  and  France.  I'd  always 
been  a  black  sheep,  you  know,  but  that  was 
the  first  really  serious  trouble  I'd  got  into. 
However,  as  I  said,  five  years  later,  when  Wil- 
dred  and  I  met,  I  was  in  Canada;  I'd  turned 
actor  (I'd  always  a  little  talent  that  way) ,  and 
was  doing  pretty  well.  He  pointed  out  to  me 
— and  I  wasn't  very  long  in  seeing  his  point — 
that  I  was  not  so  much  changed  but  what  I 
should  easily  be  recognised  by  those  who  had 
known  me  during  those  wild  days  when  I'd 
been  under  his  thumb  in  San  Francisco,  and 
the  authorities  there  would  still  be  very  glad 

257 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

to  hear  of  me.  He  didn't  happen  to  want  any- 
thing of  me  just  then,  but  he  allowed  me  to 
understand  that  it  was  to  my  interest  to  keep 
sweet  with  him.  And  from  that  day  to  this 
he's  had  his  eye  on  me." 

"  But  it  was  he  who  was  accused  of  that 
murder,  not  you,"  I  said. 

"What!" 

The  man  seemed  either  not  to  believe  or 
understand  me. 

I  repeated  the  statement,  and  then,  when 
he  stammered  his  astonishment,  his  ignorance 
of  all  that  had  taken  place  in  San  Francisco 
after  his  escape  (at  which  we  had  all  tacitly 
connived  at  the  time),  I  went  on  to  explain 
the  true  circumstances  of  the  case.  Carson 
Wildred  had  deceived  him  into  the  belief  that 
he  alone  had  been  suspected — that  if  he  were 
caught  he  would  be  promptly  hanged. 

"  He  has  told  the  same  story  to  your  sister, 
I  would  swear!  "  I  exclaimed,  hotly.  "  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  she  has  been  persuaded  into 
promising  to  marry  him.  Believing  that  he 
knows  your  whereabouts,  and  holds  it  in  his 

£58 


A   TELL-TALE    ORNAMENT 

power  at  any  moment  to  have  you  punished  as 
a  murderer — believing,  too,  no  doubt,  that  you 
did  commit  the  murder,  she  has  been  ready  to 
save  your  life  by  the  sacrifice  of  all  that  has 
made  hers  dear." 

"  Curse  him!  I'd  take  my  oath  you're 
right!  "  he  asseverated.  "  He's  sly  enough  and 
vile  enough  for  anything." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  Harvey  Farnham? "  I 
questioned. 

'  Yes,  years  ago  I  knew  him  well,  and  liked 
him  immensely — as  he  did  me,  I  think.  It  was 
in  Tuolumne  County,  California,  where  he  had 
a  gold  mine — the  Miss  Cunningham.  It  was 
I  who  named  that,  oddly  enough  it  may  seem 
to  you,  after  my  sister,  of  course.  He  wasn't 
aware  of  that,  but  thought  it  was  just  a  whim 
of  mine,  that  probably  I'd  admired  some  girl 
called  '  Miss  Cunningham,'  and  wanted  to  pay 
her  a  compliment.  You  see,  no  one  knew  me 
ly  my  right  name  even  then. 

"  It  was  before  that  hateful  time  when  I  got 
in  with  Collins,  or  Wildred,  whichever  you  like 
to  call  him,  and  not  long  after  I'd  run  away 

259 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

from  home  and  England  under  the  assumed 
name  of  Hartley — it  was  my  mother's  maiden 
name.  I  was  only  seventeen  or  eighteen,  but 
I  was  pretty  sharp  for  my  years,  I'm  afraid, 
for  I'd  been  among  a  queer  lot  already,  and 
one  night  I  would  have  got  into  a  row  with 
some  older  man  over  cards,  a  row  that  might 
have  ended  badly  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Mr. 
Farnham,  who  had  dropped  into  the  place  to 
look  on,  and  who  stood  by  me  for  all  he  was 
worth. 

"  It  seemed  he  noticed  me  the  moment  he 
entered  the  room,  thinking  that  I  looked 
enough  like  him  to  be  his  own  son.  After- 
ward he  took  me  up,  making  a  lot  of  me,  want- 
ing to  find  out  where  I'd  come  from,  and  all 
that.  He  thought  my  resemblance  to  him 
(which  everyone  who  saw  us  together  invari- 
ably remarked)  a  wonderful  joke,  and  used 
to  call  me  his  '  boy,'  and  *  sonny,'  getting  it  into 
his  head  that  I  was  a  sort  of  '  Mascot,'  who 
brought  luck  to  him  in  whatever  he  undertook. 
That  was  the  principal  reason,  of  course,  that 
he  was  so  keen  on  having  me  name  his  mine  for 

260 


A   TELL-TALE    ORNAMENT 

him.  I  think  if  I  had  sowed  all  my  wild  oats, 
and  been  willing  to  settle  down  a  bit  into  a  re- 
spectable member  of  society,  there  was  a  time 
when  he  wouldn't  have  minded  adopting  me, 
for  some  old,  unhappy  love  affair  or  other  had 
kept  him  out  of  the  marriage-market,  eligible 
as  he  was,  and  he  swore  that  he  never  meant 
to  marry,  even  for  the  hope  of  having  an  heir 
to  all  his  money.  Yes,  I  might  have  been  that 
heir  if  I  hadn't  been  a  fool,  for  Farnham  cer- 
tainly thought  the  world  and  all  of  me  in  those 
days.  As  it  was,  he  did  me  many  a  kindness." 
"  And  now,  by  way  of  repaying  that  affec- 
tion and  those  kindnesses,"  I  could  not  help  ex- 
claiming, with  a  returning  touch  of  the  old 
bitter  contempt,  "  youVe  undertaken  to  help 
his  murderer  to  get  off  scot  free.  You've  been 
masquerading  in  the  very  clothes  the  poor  fel- 
low wore,  you've  been  using  his  luggage,  trad- 
ing on  the  likeness  to  him  which  once  won  for 
you  his  regard,  heightening  it  in  every  way 
by  artificial  means,  so  that  not  only  shall  Car- 
son Wildred,  or  Willis  Collins,  escape  sus- 
picion, but  that  he  may  enrich  himself  on  the 

261 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

dead  man's  millions.  You  even  set  an  hotel 
on  fire  to  finish  the  whole  fiendish  plot  with  a 
fine  dramatic  effect! " 

The  poor  wretch,  who  had  made  such  a  wreck 
of  his  young  life,  was  white  as  death,  and  shak- 
ing like  an  aspen.  I  could  see  the  beads  of 
sweat  oozing  out  on  his  pale  forehead.  "  For 
God's  sake,"  he  implored,  "  don't  say  that  to 
me;  I  can't  bear  it!  Until  you  told  me  just 
now  I  swear  to  you  by  all  I  hold  sacred — by 
my  sister's  love,  which  I  so  little  deserve — that 
I  never  dreamed  of  Harvey  Farnham's  being 
dead.  You  may  believe  me  or  not,  as  you  like, 
but  you're  her  friend,  so  I  should  be  glad  that 
you  should  believe.  And,  at  least,  you  owe  it 
to  me  in  common  justice  to  hear  what  I've  got 
to  say. 

"  Collins  always  managed  to  keep  his  eye 
on  me,  and  knew  my  whereabouts  and  my  do- 
ings, making  me  feel  that  at  any  moment  he 
could  come  down  on  me  if  he  chose.  I  daresay 
he  had  other  men  in  his  power  like  that,  men 
whom  he  thought  he  might  wish  to  make  his 
tools  at  one  time  or  other.  I  didn't  often  hear 

262 


A   TELL-TALE    ORNAMENT 

from  him,  though  I  knew  myself  shadowed, 
and  knew  also,  only  too  well,  whom  I  had  to 
thank  for  it.  You  can't  guess  the  horror  of 
the  feeling,  or  how  it  got  on  my  nerves.  I 
fancied  it  would  drive  me  to  madness  or  sui- 
cide one  day,  always  knowing  I  was  watched, 
that  I  could  never,  try  as  I  would,  escape  that 
Eye,  which  was  really  Willis  Collins's,  spying 
me  out  across  the  ocean. 

'  Well,  a  cablegram  came  from  him  com- 
manding rather  than  asking  me  to  go  to  Eng- 
land, saying  that  it  would  be  much  to  my 
advantage  to  do  so,  and  that  my  fare  and  all 
expenses  would  at  once  be  sent  me  in  advance. 
There  was  just  a  hint  that  I  had  better  not  re- 
fuse, which  I  understood  as  well  as  if  it  had 
been  a  definite  threat;  and,  anyhow,  there  was 
a  certain  attractiveness  in  the  idea  of  going 
home — I  hadn't  seen  Karine  or  England  for 
so  long. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  let  my  sister  know  of  my 
presence — I  would  have  spared  her  that — but 
I  fancied  myself  standing  among  the  crowd 
in  the  Park,  watching  her  drive  by,  or  some- 

263 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

thing  of  that  sort.    Even  a  glimpse  of  her  face 
would  have  been  sweet. 

"  But  when  I  arrived  one  of  the  first  things 
Wildred  did  was  to  tell  me  that  he  knew  the 
Tressidys,  with  whom  Karine  was  living,  that 
he  had  heard  my  sister  often  speak  of  me,  and 
that  he  would  secretly  arrange  a  meeting  be- 
tween us.  I  couldn't  resist  the  temptation  of 
having  a  few  words  with  her  when  it  was  of- 
fered for  the  asking,  and  I  saw  her  at  the 
House  by  the  Lock.  An  excuse  was  made  to 
bring  her  and  Lady  Tressidy  there — something 
about  a  portrait  of  Karine  that  was  in  a  queer 
room  called  the  *  studio  ' — and  while  Wildred 
was  showing  Lady  Tressidy  over  the  house  I 
saw  my  sister,  and  had  a  talk  with  her.  She 
felt  grateful  to  Wildred  for  bringing  it  about, 
and  fool  that  I  was,  I  didn't  suspect  the  deep 
game  he  meant  to  play  with  her,  using  me  as 
the  decoy.  I  thought  he  had  merely  been  will- 
ing to  take  the  trouble  that  he  might  get  the 
more  work  out  of  me  when  he  wanted  it, 
though  what  the  work  was  for  which  he  had 
brought  me  to  England  I  didn't  yet  know. 

264. 


A   TELL-TALE    ORNAMENT 

"  After  that  first  meeting  with  Karine  I  had 
given  Wildred  my  word  never  to  try  and  see 
her  again ;  now  I  understand  why.  He  wished 
to  revive  all  the  old  love  she  had  felt  by  the 
sight  of  me,  awaken  her  sympathy  for  my 
troubles,  when  she  should  learn  his  version  of 
them  from  his  lips,  and  then  keep  me  from  her, 
lest  I  should  hear  that  he  had  asked  her  to  be 
his  wife,  threatening  to  betray  me  if  she  did 
not  accept,  and  so,  in  spite  of  my  cowardice 
(for  I  am  a  moral  coward) ,  setting  me  against 
him,  to  be  his  slave  and  tool  no  more. 

• "  When  I  had  been  in  England  about  three 
or  four  weeks,  keeping  out  of  the  way  of  any- 
one who  might  possibly  remember  me,  Wildred 
suggested  the  scheme  of  my  travelling  back  to 
America,  impersonating  Farnham,  and  finally 
finishing  the  plot,  as  I  did  finish  it  to-night. 
He  admitted  that  it  was  for  this  he  had  sent 
for  me,  but  swore  Farnham  himself  was  in  the 
thing  as  deep  as  he;  that  it  meant  a  fortune  to 
them  both,  which  they  were  to  share,  and  which 
could  be  had  in  no  other  way.  He  explained 
that  Farnham  had  had  bad  luck  in  specula- 

265 


THE   HOUSE  BY   T#E   LOCK 

tions,  was  bankrupt,  hadn't  the  pluck  to  begin 
over  again  on  the  lowest  rounds  of  the  ladder, 
nor  to  undertake  carrying  out  this  plan  him- 
self. He  would  funk  the  fire  business,  Wil- 
dred  said,  and  might,  instead  of  escaping, 
actually  be  burned  to  death.  The  object  to  be 
gained,  of  course,  I  was  made  to  believe,  was 
getting  the  life  assurance.  Farnham  was  sup- 
posed to  have  several  policies,  each  one  for  an 
enormous  sum ;  he  had  left  everything  of  which 
he  should  die  possessed,  life  assurance  and  all 
the  rest,  to  Wildred,  who  would  actually  go 
halves  with  Farnham  when  the  money  should 
be  secured. 

"  I  have  nothing  of  my  own,  you  know,  ex- 
cept what  I  can  make  by  my  wits,  for  my 
father  disinherited  me,  and  I've  had  just  a 
little  too  much  pride  ever  to  take  anything 
from  Karine.  Wildred  offered  me  ten  thou- 
sand pounds  to  work  this  business  for  him; 
half  to  be  paid  down,  half  when  the  thing  had 
been  successfully  carried  through  to  the  close. 

"  Of  course,  I  had  sense  enough  to  know  it 
was  a  villainous  fraud,  but  I've  never  been  very 

266 


A   TELL-TALE   ORNAMENT 

scrupulous,  and  it  was  easy  to  persuade  my- 
self that  I  owed  Harvey  Farnham  a  good  turn 
for  what  he  did  for  me  in  the  past.  Besides, 
I  wanted  the  money,  and  there  was  five  thou- 
sand in  notes  (Wildred  was  too  sly  to  give  a 
cheque)  on  the  table  for  me  to  take  or  leave. 
I  didn't  see  that  I  was  going  to  do  much  harm 
to  anybody  except  the  insurance  companies, 
who  are  rich  enough  to  lose,  as  Farnham  hadn't 
a  relative  in  the  world;  but  before  heaven,  if 
I'd  dreamed  of  the  truth,  I'd  have  let  Wildred 
do  his  worst  before  I'd  have  gone  in  with  him. 
"  As  for  the  Santa  Anna,  I  knew  that  every 
board  of  the  hotel  was  assured — the  landlord 
would  lose  nothing,  and  after  I'd  kindled  the 
fire  I  knocked  like  mad  on  your  door.  I  fancy, 
though  you  didn't  know  it,  it  must  have  been 
that  which  first  began  to  rouse  you.  I  didn't 
give  myself  much  time  to  get  out,  after  taking 
off  the  disguise  (which  I  flatter  myself  I  did 
pretty  well) ,  but  I  just  managed  it.  I  can  tell 
you  I  was  desperate  when  I  walked  in  here 
and  found  you ;  but  now  I  was  never  so  thank- 
ful for  anything  in  the  course  of  my  life." 

267 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

"  The  present  question  is,  then,"  I  said, 
"  whether  you  will  go  straight  to  England  with 
me  and  tell  all  you  know  about  Carson  Wil- 
dred?  If  we  stopped  on  this  side,  to  prove 
things  step  by  step  as  we  went,  we  should 
labour  under  two  disadvantages.  It  would 
mean  indefinite  delay,  and  you  would  get  into 
trouble  about  that  business  at  the  hotel  to- 
night. To  sail  at  once  for  England,  and  let 
matters  here  take  care  of  themselves  for  the 
present,  is  our  only  plan,  I  think.  What  do 
you  say?  " 

'  You  are  sure  that  Wildred  can't  swear  my 
life  away? " 

"  As  sure  as  I  am  that  we  are  both  alive  at 
this  moment." 

"  Then  I'm  in  your  hands.  I'll  save  my  sis- 
ter, and  I'll  get  even  with  Wildred  for  making 
a  tool  and  a  dupe  of  me." 

"  By  the  time  we  have  landed  on  the  other 
side,"  I  answered,  "  there'll  still  be  a  clear  fort- 
night to  do  the  first,  and  I  think  we  may 
accomplish  the  latter  transaction  simultane- 
ously." 

268 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

TOO  LATE! 

WE  had  a  stormy  passage,  and  arrived  at 
Southampton  four-and-twenty  hours  later 
than  we  should  have  done.  It  was  Cunning- 
ham who  bought  a  paper  as  we  got  into  the 
train.  I  was  too  completely  preoccupied  to 
have  absorbed  a  line  of  news,  even  had  my 
eyes  mechanically  perused  the  printed  matter. 
Cunningham  (who  was  always  restless,  and 
could  not  bear  to  be  left  at  the  mercy  of  his 
own  thoughts)  read  incessantly,  however,  and 
at  the  end  of  half  an  hour  or  so  handed  over  his 
paper  to  me. 

"  Look  at  this,"  he  said,  with  some  eager- 
ness, pointing  out  a  paragraph.  I  glanced  at 
it  carelessly  at  first,  but  in  an  instant  I  was 
as  keen  as  Cunningham  had  been. 

"Another  Fortune  for  a  Millionaire,"  the 
paragraph  was  headed,  and  beneath  was  set 
forth  the  interesting  fact  that  Mr.  Carson  Wil- 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

dred,  who  was  shortly  to  marry  Miss  Cunning- 
ham, the  celebrated  beauty  and  heiress,  had 
just  heard  of  a  legacy  of  half  a  million  pounds, 
left  him  by  an  American  friend,  Mr.  Harvey 
Farnham,  lately  burned  to  death  in  a  San 
Francisco  hotel. 

"  So  you  see  it  wasn't  only  the  mine,  and  the 
money  he  should  have  paid  for  the  mine,  he 
wanted,"  said  Cunningham.  "  Oh,  he's  a 
marvellous  chap,  this  Wildred! " 

I  acquiesced  in  this  opinion,  and  recalled  a 
remark  made  in  the  club  by  a  mutual  acquaint- 
ance. "  Carson  Wildred  is  always  inheriting 
fortunes  from  chaps  that  die  at  the  four 
corners  of  the  globe,"  he  had  curiously  an- 
nounced. I  wondered  grimly,  as  I  remembered 
the  speech,  whether  all  these  benefactors  had 
met  their  death  after  the  manner  of  poor  Har- 
vey Farnham. 

Time  was  pressing  now,  and  our  idea  was 
to  go  straight  to  Karine,  I  to  appear  only  as 
the  supporter  of  her  brother.  A  desire  for  the 
punishment  of  Wildred  might  have  held  a 
prominent  place  both  in  Cunningham's  mind 

270 


TOO   LATE! 

and  mine,  but  our  first  thought  was  to  save 
Karine  from  becoming  the  murderer's  wife. 

She  must  be  disabused  of  the  belief  that  her 
brother  was  in  any  way  in  Wildred's  power. 
She  must  know  that,  as  Cunningham  expressed 
it,  the  "  shoe  was  on  the  other  foot."  She  must 
be  shown  the  black  depths  of  Carson  Wil- 
dred's villainy,  and  be  dragged  back  from  the 
brink  of  the  precipice  on  which  she  had  stood. 

Ours  was  a  quick  train,  and  went  straight 
through  to  London  without  stopping.  After 
arriving  at  Waterloo  station,  therefore,  we 
were  obliged  to  wait  for  nearly  an  hour  before 
we  could  get  another  which  would  take  us  to 
Haslemere. 

A  curious  f  eeling  that  I  had  passed  through 
all  this  before  came  over  me,  and  as  we  stepped 
out  of  our  carriage  on  the  platform  of  the 
Haslemere  station  it  seemed  but  yesterday  that 
I  had  arrived  at  the  same  place,  intent  on  bid- 
ding Karine  that  farewell  which  never  had  been 
spoken. 

The  time  of  day  gave  me  the  only  sense  of 
difference.  We  had  left  the  ship  early  in  the 

271 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

morning,  had  made  our  first  journey  in  two 
hours,  and  now  it  was  only  very  little  past 
noon. 

I  had  wished  (considering  the  reception  I 
had  met  at  Sir  Walter  Tressidy's  on  my  first 
and  last  visit  at  his  country  house)  to  remain 
at  an  hotel  in  Haslemere,  there  to  await  such 
news  as  Cunningham  might  have  to  bring. 
For  Karine's  sake,  I  thought,  it  would  be  bet- 
ter for  me  not  to  appear  openly  in  the  matter, 
unless  it  proved  that  the  influence  of  her 
brother  and  his  narrative  were  not  as  potent 
in  their  effect  as  I  anticipated.  Should  he  re- 
quire any  attestations  from  me,  I  was  only 
too  glad  to  be  on  the  spot  and  to  be  called  upon 
to  give  them. 

Cunningham,  however,  had  overruled  this 
programme  of  mine.  No  one  could  tell,  he 
said,  how  he  might  be  received.  He  might  be 
sorely  in  need  of  me  to  back  him  up — perhaps 
even  to  prove  the  truth  of  his  otherwise  un- 
supported assertions. 

The  Tressidys,  he  alleged,  were  peculiar. 
Though  his  sister  had  not  confided  in  him,  he 

272 


TOO   LATE! 

knew  that  she  was  unhappy  with  them.  They 
had  very  little  money  of  their  own  on  which  to 
keep  up  the  appearance  they  wished  to  make 
in  the  eyes  of  their  world,  and  Cunningham 
did  not  believe  that  Lady  Tressidy  would  he 
above  accepting  a  heavy  bribe  from  Wildred 
for  furthering  his  suit,  by  almost  any  means, 
with  poor  Karine. 

Half  against  my  will,  therefore,  yet  not 
wholly  with  reluctance,  I  must  confess,  I  en- 
tered the  carriage  which  was  to  drive  us  both 
to  the  house  where  a  few  weeks  ago  I  had  been 
so  ruthlessly  repulsed. 

"  Thank  heaven! "  I  said,  as  we  rattled  up 
the  hill  (perhaps  in  the  same  vehicle  which  had 
driven  me  before) ,  "  that  the  storm  wasn't  just 
a  degree  more  severe  in  crossing.  It  was 
touch  and  go  with  us  one  day,  at  all  events,  I 
believe;  but  a  fraction  worse,  and  we  shouldn't 
have  been  here  now  to  stand  between  Miss 
Cunningham  and  that  villain.  A  week  or  ten 
days  more,  perhaps,  and  even  if  we'd  reached 
her  we  might  have  been  too  late." 

There  was  a  certain  tumultuous  joy  in  my 
273 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

heart,  far  removed  from  happiness,  yet  intoxi- 
cating as  new  wine.  Karine  might  never  be 
mine,  but  she  was  saved,  and  it  would  be  I  who 
had  saved  her.  I  could  never  be  regarded  by 
her  quite  with  indifference  after  this  day. 

As  we  drove  we  made  various  hurried  plans 
as  to  what  we  should  do  if  we  were  refused 
admittance.  We  were  determined  at  least  to 
see  Karine,  even  if  we  were  obliged  to  force 
our  way  into  her  presence. 

As  we  got  out  of  the  carriage  and  ran  up 
the  four  or  five  broad  stone  steps  that  led  to 
the  front  door,  something  crackled  under  our 
feet  like  exaggerated  grains  of  sand.  We 
were  far  enough,  however,  from  guessing  the 
nature  of  the  foreign  substance  that  was  thus 
crushed  beneath  our  disregarding  boot-soles. 

The  door  was  opened  by  a  smiling  footman. 
He  was  not  the  man  I  had  previously  seen,  and 
evidently,  judging  from  the  genial  flush  on  his 
face  and  the  twinkle  in  his  eye,  something 
agreeable  or  amusing  had  recently  taken  place. 
He  tried  to  draw  his  countenance  into  the  con- 
ventional lines  of  footman-like  solemnity,  but, 

274 


TOO    LATE! 

his  eyes  lighting  upon  Cunningham,  the  ex- 
pression changed  to  one  of  surprise.  Very 
possibly  he  noted  the  similarity  of  colouring 
between  the  brother  and  sister,  and  a  certain 
vague  haunting  likeness  that  would  show  itself 
at  times. 

"  If  Miss  Cunningham  is  at  home,  tell  her 
that  her  brother  has  come  and  wishes  to  see  her 
immediately  on  a  matter  of  importance,"  said 
my  companion,  valiantly  taking  the  bull  by  the 
horns. 

"  Miss  Cunningham  is  not  at  home,  sir,"  re- 
plied the  servant.  "  She — that  is — in  fact,  sir, 
she  has  just  left  us  for  good  and  all.  She — 
she  was  married,  sir,  at  half -past  ten  o'clock 
this  morning,  and  the  wedding  breakfast's  only 
been  over  since  an  hour  ago." 

The  gritty  substance  under  our  feet  had 
been  the  rice  thrown,  as  though  in  mockery, 
after  Karine  as  she  passed  to  her  carriage  on 
her  husband's  arm. 


275 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

A  WILD-GOOSE   CHASE 

"  Do  you  know  where  the — the  bride  and 
groom  have  gone? "  questioned  Cunningham, 
grudgingly. 

"  No,  sir.  I  heard  Lady  Tressidy  say  only 
this  morning  that  even  she  hadn't  been  told. 
Mr.  Wildred  had  some  idea  of  a  surprise,  I 
believe,  sir." 

The  fact  that  not  only  had  my  companion 
claimed  to  be  the  brother  of  the  bride,  but  that 
his  facial  expression  and  colouring  answered 
for  his  truth,  caused  the  fellow  to  feel  ap- 
parently that  we  had  a  right  to  explana- 
tions. 

There  was  no  use  in  endeavouring  to  make 
further  enquiries.  Even  if  Lady  Tressidy  or 
Sir  Walter  did  know  the  destination  of  the 
newly-wedded  pair,  it  was  more  than  improb- 
able that  they  would  be  ready  to  share  their 

276 


A  WILD-GOOSE   CHASE 

knowledge  with  us.  And  it  was  like  Carson 
Wildred  to  be  prepared  even  for  the  very 
emergency  which  had  now  arisen,  by  taking 
just  such  precautions  as  he  had. 

Had  we  not  been  impatient  and  chosen  the 
steep  road,  less  often  travelled  than  the  other, 
we  should  no  doubt  have  met  the  carriage 
which  drove  the  bridal  couple  to  the  Haslemere 
station.  Another  exemplification  of  the  old 
proverb,  that  "  the  more  haste,  the  less  speed." 
We  could  now  only  repair  our  mistake,  if  it 
still  admitted  of  reparation,  by  giving  chase 
with  such  speed  as  was  practicable. 

I  gave  the  order  to  the  coachman,  "Drive 
to  the  station  as  quick  as  you  can/*  and  in  an- 
other moment  we  were  off. 

Fate  seemed  to  have  ordained  that  I  should 
meet  nothing  save  disappointment  at  this  door; 
but  to-day's  experience  had  brought  me  some- 
thing far  deeper  and  more  cruel  than  mere  dis- 
appointment. I  had  not  counted  upon  the 
chance  that  Wildred  would  be  permitted  to 
hurry  on  the  wedding  during  my  absence,  and 
now  I  felt  as  though  a  chasm  had  suddenly 

S77 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

yawned  under  my  feet.     Karine  was  Carson 
Wildred's  wife! 

"What  are  we  to  do?"  questioned  her 
brother  dully.  "  We  can't  leave  her  with  him, 
you  know." 

Leave  her  with  him!  The  very  fact  that  I 
was  obliged  to  answer  him  gave  me  back  the 
power  of  concentrating  thought.  A  moment 
before  my  mind  had  been  a  blank,  a  chaos;  but 
now  I  returned,  unhesitatingly — 

"We'll  find  out  where  they've  gone,  and 
have  him  arrested  and  your  sister  taken  from 
him  before  nightfall." 

"  But  supposing  they've  gone  abroad — 
which  is  what  they  very  likely  mean — before 
we  can  catch  them? " 

:<  We  must  catch  them.  There  won't  be  a 
train  till  later  in  the  afternoon  by  which  they 
can  get  away  now.  They'd  have  to  go  by  the 
night  boat,  if  it  was  France.  Somehow  or 
other — though  everything  seems  against  us, 
and  we  are  only  two,  where  there  ought  to  be 
a  dozen  going  in  as  many  ways  at  once — we'll 
circumvent  that  devil  yet." 

278 


A  WILD-GOOSE   CHASE 

"You  have  plenty  of  confidence  in  your- 
self," said  Cunningham.  "  Perhaps  you  don't 
know  Carson  Wildred  as  well  as  I  do." 

I  did  not  answer,  though  the  words  rang 
ominously  in  my  ears.  I  was  very  busy  with 
my  own  thoughts. 

As  soon  as  we  could  find  out  where  Wildred 
had  taken  Karine  (even  within  my  own  mind 
I  would  not  call  her  his  wife ) ,  we  must  lodge 
such  information  with  the  police  that  he  could 
be  arrested  at  once,  either  on  English  or 
foreign  soil,  as  the  case  might  be.  A  man  ac- 
cused of  murder,  as  he  would  be,  could,  for- 
tunately, be  apprehended  anywhere. 

At  Haslemere  station  they  could  only  in- 
form us  that  the  party  of  which  we  were  in 
search  had  had  tickets  for  London,  and  had 
left  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour  before  our 
arrival. 

Even  if  we  could  have  told  our  story  with 
sufficient  succinctness  to  have  Wildred  met  at 
Waterloo  by  the  police,  there  would  have  been 
no  time  to  do  so.  We  must  simply  follow  as 
we  could.  Luckily  there  was  a  slow  train  due 

279 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

in  a  few  moments,  otherwise  I  think  we  (I  at 
least)  must  have  gone  mad  with  the  strain  of 
waiting. 

At  Waterloo  we  heard  of  them.  A  porter 
had  taken  their  luggage  and  put  it  on  a  cab. 
The  gentleman  and  lady  had  driven  away  in  a 
private  carriage.  What  direction  had  been 
given  to  the  coachman  or  the  cabman  he  had 
not  happened  to  hear. 

I  now  proposed  that  Cunningham  should 
proceed  immediately  to  Scotland  Yard,  while 
I  busied  myself  elsewhere.  He  was  the  one 
who  could  tell  of  the  plot  by  which  he  had  per- 
sonated Farnham  in  America,  by  Wildred's 
desire,  and  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  a  sub- 
stantial bribe.  The  authorities  were  already  in 
possession  of  such  separate  information  as  I 
could  give,  and  now  that  they  would  learn 
from  Cunningham  how  Farnham  had  never 
gone  to  America  at  all,  a  very  different  and 
more  lurid  light  would  be  shed  upon  the  past. 

Meanwhile  I  would  drive  to  Charing  Cross, 
and  might  yet  be  in  time  to  intercept  the  couple 
if  they  were  intending  to  depart  for  France. 

280 


A  WILD-GOOSE   CHASE 

At  Charing  Cross  they  had  not  appeared, 
and  hastening  to  a  telegraph  office,  I  sent  mes- 
sages containing  Wildred's  description  and 
Karine's  to  every  one  of  the  principal  railway 
stations  in  London.  Replies  were  paid,  and 
were  to  be  received  for  me  at  the  Charing 
Cross  Hotel.  Having  done  so  much,  I  drove 
to  the  piers  from  which  the  Holland  boats 
sailed;  then,  having  discovered  nothing^  back 
to  Charing  Cross  again.  The  train  which 
would  catch  the  night  boat  at  Dover  was  just 
about  going  out,  but  Wildred  and  Karine  were 
not  visible. 

When  the  last  moment  had  come  and  gone 
I  betook  myself  to  the  hotel,  where  my  tele- 
grams were  to  await  me.  I  also  looked  for 
Cunningham,  who  was  to  have  met  me  there, 
after  Scotland  Yard,  and  decided  upon  forth- 
coming arrangements.  Despatches  were  await- 
ing me  from  the  head  porters  of  various  sta- 
tions— Victoria,  Euston,  Paddington,  and  so 
on — but  no  Cunningham  had  as  yet  appeared. 

I  opened  the  message  from  Paddington  last; 
the  others  had  no  news  for  me,  but  it  seemed 

281 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

that  at  Paddington  a  lady  and  gentleman,  ap- 
parently answering  the  description  given,  had 
taken  tickets  for  Maidenhead.  All  the  blood 
in  my  body  seemed  to  mount  to  my  head.  Un- 
less there  had  been  a  mistake  in  the  identity, 
Wildred  must  have  carried  Karine  off  to  the 
House  by  the  Lock! 

It  was  horrible  to  me  that  she  should  be 
there.  The  thought  of  the  house,  and  what  I 
believed  had  happened  to  Harvey  Farnham 
under  its  roof,  was  abhorrent.  Why  had  he 
chosen  to  take  his  young  bride,  on  the  day  of 
their  marriage,  to  that  gloomy  and  accursed 
spot?  A  strange  thrill  of  apprehension,  vague, 
yet  none  the  less  dreadful,  shook  my  nerves. 

I  consulted  the  latest  A.B.C.  time-table, 
which  lay  in  the  reading-room  of  the  hotel.  In 
exactly  an  hour  another  train  would  leave  Pad- 
dington for  Maidenhead  and  Marlow  (the 
nearest  stations  to  Purley  Lock),  and  after 
that  there  would  not  be  another  until  ten 
o'clock. 

I  should  not  have  much  more  than  time  to 
catch  the  former,  if  I  intended  to  go  by  it — 


A   WILD-GOOSE   CHASE 

and  I  did  intend  to  go.  Exactly  what  I  was  to 
do,  how  I  was  to  get  Karine  away  from  her 
husband,  I  did  not  dare  stop  to  think,  but 
somehow  I  would  do  it.  So  great  was  my 
dread  of  Wildred  as  a  criminal,  and  my  respect 
for  him  as  a  schemer,  that  I  even  feared  dimly 
for  Karine 's  safety  with  him.  It  was  madness 
to  entertain  such  a  doubt,  I  assured  myself, 
for  great  heiress  as  she  was,  Karine  was 
lovely  enough  and  sweet  enough  to  inspire 
genuine  love  even  in  so  cold-hearted  a  villain 
as  Wildred. 

He  might  tire  of  her  in  the  end,  but  for  the 
present  her  life,  at  least,  would  be  safe  with 
him.  So  I  repeated  mentally,  over  and  over 
again;  but  still  I  was  pricked  with  a  boding 
fear  for  more  than  her  peace  of  mind.  Why 
had  he  taken  her  to  that  grim,  hateful  house 
by  the  river? 


283 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

AT  THE   HOUSE   BY  THE   LOCK 

I  WOULD  have  wished  to  wait  for  Cunning- 
ham, both  because  I  wanted  him  with  me,  and 
because  I  was  anxious  to  hear  what  he  had 
done  at  Scotland  Yard.  However,  he  did  not 
come,  so  I  wired  him  to  the  latter  place,  left  a 
short  note  for  him  also  at  the  hotel,  to  be  kept 
till  called  for,  and  started  off  in  a  cab  (when  I 
dared  delay  no  longer)  at  breakneck  pace  for 
Paddington  station. 

I  just  caught  the  train  I  wanted,  changed 
at  Maidenhead,  and  arrived  at  Marlow  by 
half-past  eight  o'clock.  This  time  I  had 
neither  leisure  nor  inclination  to  walk,  as  upon 
my  first  visit  to  the  place  on  Christmas  Day, 
but  took  a  fly,  and  offered  the  man  an  extra 
fare  if  he  would  make  haste. 

A  little  short  of  the  House  by  the  Lock  I 
stopped  him.  A  certain  instinct  seemed  to  bid 

284 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

me  not  be  too  ostentatious  in  the  manner  of 
announcing  my  arrival.  I  got  out,  and  by  the 
light  of  a  round,  red  moon  rising  over  black 
trees  in  the  east  I  glanced  at  my  watch.  It 
was  five-and-twenty  past  nine.  The  whole  day, 
since  my  arrival  at  Southampton  in  the  morn- 
ing, had  gone  in  searching  for  Karine,  and  it 
might  be  that  I  was  as  far  from  success  now 
as  I  had  been  in  the  beginning. 

A  hundred  yards  away  a  small  yellow  light 
shone  steadily  through  the  moon-tinged  dark- 
ness. I  thought  it  came  from  the  House  by 
the  Lock,  though  the  one  poor  ray  made  but 
scant  cheer  of  illumination  for  a  bride's  home- 
coming. 

;<  Wait  here  for  me,"  I  said  to  the  driver. 
"  I  may  come  within  half  an  hour,  I  may  be 
much  longer;  but,  at  all  events,  wait.  Here  is 
a  sovereign  for  you,  and  you  shall  have  as 
much  again  when  I  return." 

The  tone  of  his  voice  told  me  that  he  was 
suspicious,  as  well  as  curious,  regarding  the 
mysterious  intentions  of  his  fare;  but  I  was 
sure  that  he  would  not  fail  me.  Two  pounds 

285 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE    LOCK 

were  not  to  be  so  easily  picked  up  every 
evening. 

I  walked  on  rapidly.  As  I  approached  the 
House  by  the  Lock  I  lost  sight  of  the  yellow 
gleam  which  for  some  time  had  guided  me, 
but  the  moon  glinted  bleakly  on  the  staring 
panes  of  dark,  upper  windows. 

Desolate  as  the  place  had  appeared  at  the 
hour  of  sunset,  it  had  had  an  air  of  hospitable 
welcome  at  that  time  compared  to  that  which 
it  wore  now.  Never,  it  seemed  to  me,  had  I 
seen  a  habitation  so  grim,  so  silently  suggest- 
ive of  haunting,  evil  things.  The  face  of  the 
moon,  as  it  rose,  lost  the  ruddy  hue  which  had 
coloured  it  nearer  the  horizon,  and  its  paling 
disc  was  swept  by  black  and  ragged  storm 
clouds.  The  wind  moaned  through  the  trees 
like  the  wail  of  a  lost  soul,  and  there  was  a 
stealthy,  monotonous  lapping  of  the  dark 
waters  so  close  at  hand. 

Other  sound  there  was  none,  and,  though  I 
had  seen  the  small  ray  from  a  distance,  now — 
so  far  as  I  could  ascertain — not  a  window  in 
the  whole  gloomy  pile  was  lighted. 


THE   HOUSE    BY   THE   LOCK 

I  went  up  the  path,  knocked,  and  rang  the 
bell,  which  sent  back  jangling  echoes,  such  as 
belong  in  one's  fancy  to  an  uninhabited  house. 
From  a  distant  kennel  a  dog  began  to  bay. 
Otherwise  I  was  not  answered,  and  as  I  rang 
and  thundered  on  the  knocker  again,  the  ani- 
mal's voice  at  length  subsided  into  a  protest- 
ing whine. 

I  ought  by  this  time  to  have  been  sure  that 
Wildred  and  Karine  were  not  in  the  house, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  I  was  by  no  means  certain 
of  that  fact.  Mentally  I  argued  that,  if  the 
master  was  absent,  a  caretaker  or  servant 
would  certainly  have  been  left,  and  unless  a 
stone-deaf  person  had  been  selected  for  the 
post  my  violent  alarms  would  have  brought 
him  to  me. 

If  any  reason  existed,  however,  why  the  door 
should  not  be  opened,  it  would  be  easy  to  un- 
derstand how  and  why  the  caretaker  might  be 
suddenly  afflicted  with  an  inability  to  hear. 

Instead  of  being  plunged  into  discourage- 
ment, an  ever-kindling  fire  of  rage  mounted 
within  me.  Rather  than  go  away  ignorant  as 

287 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

to  whether  Karine  was  hidden  in  this  hateful 
house  or  not,  I  would  force  an  entrance.  I 
sprang  down  the  steps  and  went  to  one  of  the 
bow  windows  nearest  the  door. 

Not  an  instant's  hesitation  had  I  in  kicking 
in  one  of  the  panes  of  glass,  but,  as  it  hap- 
pened, I  had  only  my  trouble  for  my  pains. 
There  were  solidly-barred  shutters  inside,  so 
heavy  that  even  I,  strong  man  as  I  was,  could 
not  break  them  open. 

Furious  now,  I  ran  up  to  the  door  again, 
and  drove  my  gloved  fist  through  the  glass  in 
one  of  the  curious,  six-inch-wide  window  panes 
that  ran  the  length  of  the  door  on  either  side. 
The  shivered  glass  jingled  sharply  on  the  pol- 
ished wood  of  the  floor  inside,  and  I  thrust  in 
my  arm  up  to  the  elbow,  hoping  to  get  at  the 
lock  on  the  door  within.  As  I  did  so  foot- 
steps came  running  in  the  distance. 

"  Here !  Here !  What's  the  matter  with 
you?  "  cried  an  imperative  voice. 

I  had  heard  it  before,  I  remembered.  It  was 
that  of  the  eminently  respectable-looking  serv- 
ant who  had  so  cleverly  defended  his  master's 

288 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

reputation  on  the  occasion  of  my  former  visit 
to  the  House  by  the  Lock. 

"  If  you're  a  burglar,"  remarked  the  voice, 
"  you'd  better  go  away  while  you  can.  I  have 
a  revolver,  and  my  hand  is  on  the  trigger 
now." 

"  I  am  no  burglar,"  I  returned.  "  This  is 
not  exactly  the  time  of  night  to  expect  such 
gentry,  is  it?  But  you've  kept  me  waiting  long 
enough.  I  wish  to  see  your  master  and  mis- 
tress, whom  I  happen  to  know  are  here  this 
evening,  and  I  don't  mean  to  go  away  without 
doing  it." 

The  man  inside  chuckled. 

"  Nice  way  of  announcing  yourself,  ain't 
it,  sir?  But  as  it  happens  you'll  have  to  go 
elsewhere  to  see  my  master  and  the  new  mis- 
tress. I  don't  know  where  they  are — it  ain't 
likely  I  should — but  I  do  know  they  aren't  in 
this  house,  where  there  isn't  a  solitary  soul  but 
me.  As  for  the  time  of  night,  that's  neither 
here  nor  there,  so  long  as  I'd  chosen  to  go  to 
bed ;  and  I  can't  dress  all  of  a  minute  to  please 
anybody  that  likes  to  come  banging  at  the 

289 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

door.  You  deserve  to  be  had  up  for  damaging 
the  house,  that  you  do,  whoever  you  may 
be." 

There  was  a  ring  of  virtuous  indignation  in 
the  voice,  and  for  a  few  seconds'  length  I  hesi- 
tated. Perhaps,  after  all,  the  fellow  was  tell- 
ing the  truth.  I  was  very  certain  of  his 
capacity  for  lying,  but  it  might  well  be  that 
Wildred  and  Karine  had  not  really  come  here. 
Still 

Far  away  a  door  slammed  sharply,  and  just 
in  time  to  decide  me.  The  man  had  lied.  He 
had  just  told  me  that  he  was  alone  in  the  house, 
and  this  one  sound  had  unmistakably  proved 
the  falsehood.  It  was  not  the  sort  of  noise 
with  which  the  wind  shuts  a  door,  even  had  the 
wind  been  violent  enough  to  do  so,  and  win- 
dows open  to  admit  it.  The  latch  had  been 
lifted  by  a  human  hand. 

The  servant,  who  was  entirely  out  of  my 
sight,  began  talking  hurriedly,  jabbering  any 
nonsense,  as  though  to  cover  what  had  hap- 
pened. I  listened  intently,  and  through  his 
chattering  I  fancied  that  I  could  hear — sub- 

290 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

dued  with  distance  and  intervening  walls — the 
sound  of  a  woman's  crying. 

My  heart  seemed  to  leap  into  my  throat.  I 
could  feel  the  blood  throbbing  almost  to  burst- 
ing at  my  temples. 

"  You  liar! "  I  roughly  exclaimed.  "  They 
are  here,  and  I  will  see  them,  if  I  have  to  break 
the  door  down ! " 

;<  Try  it,  then! "  the  man  cried,  tauntingly. 
"  Just  try  it — and  you  may  try  all  night.  Ta, 
ta!  Good-bye,  and  good  luck  to  you! " 

I  heard  his  feet  tapping  swiftly  along  the 
uncovered  floor  as  he  ran  away.  Another  door 
was  opened  and  closed,  and  he  was  out  of  ear- 
shot. 

Desperately  I  again  endeavoured  to  find  the 
lock.  It  was  no  use.  Thrust  in  my  arm  as 
far  as  I  might  I  could  not  touch  it,  and  though 
I  broke  the  narrow  pane  on  the  other  side  as 
well,  the  fastenings  of  the  door  were  beyond 
my  reach. 

With  all  my  strength  I  flung  myself  against 
the  door,  but  the  heavy  wood  stood  firm  as 
though  it  had  been  a  sheet  of  iron.  There  was 

291 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE    LOCK 

evidently  no  hope  in  that  direction,  and  dizzy 
with  my  own  rage  and  desperation,  I  began 
attempting  some  of  the  windows.  But  all 
were  secured  with  the  impregnable  shutters 
and  bars  inside,  and  it  would  have  seemed  that 
the  inmates  of  the  House  by  the  Lock  were 
prepared  to  stand  a  siege. 

Whether  it  was  Karine  whom  I  believed  I 
had  heard  weeping  or  not,  I  could  not  be  sure. 
I  could  not  even  have  taken  my  oath  that  there 
had  been  such  a  sound  at  all,  but  I  was  morally 
certain  of  it. 

I  ran  round  the  house,  trying  in  vain  to  bat- 
ter in  another  door,  and  was  met  everywhere 
by  silence  and  darkness.  At  the  side,  how- 
ever, I  came  at  last  upon  the  extension  with 
the  tower,  whence  I  had  seen  the  suspicious 
smoke  and  flame  pouring  on  that  memorable 
Christmas  afternoon.  Over  the  roof  of  the 
low  "  studio,"  which  possessed  no  windows,  I 
could  see  a  faint  yellow  glow,  like  a  luminous 
halo  or  crown,  and  suddenly,  as  I  stood  re- 
garding it  in  some  bewilderment,  I  recollected 
the  skylight  which  I  had  observed  from  within. 

292 


THE   HOUSE    BY   THE   LOCK 

If  I  could  in  some  way  climb  to  the  top, 
break  through  the  glass  and  let  myself  down, 
the  problem  as  to  how  I  should  get  into  the 
house  would  be  effectually  solved. 

It  now  struck  me  that  the  studio,  as  seen 
from  outside,  was  disproportionately  large 
compared  with  the  room  inside,  as  I  remem- 
bered it.  There  had  been  only  the  one,  which 
apparently  constituted  the  sole  purpose  of  the 
building,  and  yet  it  appeared  to  me  that  there 
might  have  been  space  for  two  of  the  same 
small  size. 

Low  as  the  erection  was  it  was  too  high  for 
me  to  climb,  and  I  began  hastily  looking  about 
for  some  means  of  assistance  in  carrying  out 
my  plan. 

In  the  coach-house,  I  thought,  there  might 
be  a  ladder,  and  thither  I  repaired  without  de- 
lay. But  the  doors  were  padlocked,  and  try 
them  as  I  might  I  could  not  open  them. 

What  was  I  to  do?  The  more  difficulties 
which  encumbered  my  path,  the  more  did  I 
determine  to  surmount  them.  Returning  to- 
wards the  house  I  noticed  a  large  rustic  seat 

293 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

placed  under  an  ancient  apple  tree,  and  it 
occurred  to  me  that  if  I  could  balance  the 
article  against  the  projection  of  the  building  I 
might,  by  standing  it  on  end,  use  it  as  an  im- 
provised ladder.  If  I  could  only  mount  for  a 
certain  distance  I  could  pull  myself  up  by  the 
ledge  of  stonework  which  ran  along  the  edge 
of  the  flat  roof. 

The  light  which  apparently  filtered  through 
the  skylight  had  warned  me  to  be  cautious  in 
my  movements.  Whoever  was  in  the  house 
must  have  known  long  ago  that  someone  was 
determined  upon  forcing  an  entrance,  but, 
judging  by  the  laughing  taunts  of  the  servant, 
it  would  be  believed  that  the  boast  had  been  a 
vain  one. 

If  anyone  was  in  the  studio  it  might  be  as 
well  if,  for  a  few  moments  at  least,  I  could  see 
without  being  seen  or  heard.  I  therefore  went 
about  my  preparations  as  quietly  as  possible. 

I  dragged  the  rustic  seat  across  the  grass 
and  set  it  in  an  angle  between  the  tower  and 
the  low  building  of  the  studio,  giving  it  a  cer- 
tain slanting  inclination,  that  it  might  not  fall 

294 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

when  burdened  with  my  weight.  Then  I 
scrambled  up,  not  venturing  to  pause  for  an 
instant  at  the  top,  for  I  could  feel  that  the 
thing  was  slowly  beginning  to  slide  from  under 
me. 

With  a  leap  I  caught  the  ledge  of  stone  that 
ran  round  the  roof,  and  setting  my  knee 
against  the  wall,  helped  myself  up.  It  may 
read  simply  enough  when  written  down  in 
black  and  white,  but  it  was  rather  a  difficult 
task  in  the  accomplishment,  and  I  felt  that  I 
had  reason  to  congratulate  myself  on  my  own 
success  when  it  was  done. 

Framed  in  a  margin  of  dark  roof  eight  to 
ten  feet  in  width  was  the  skylight,  through 
which  penetrated  a  subdued  radiance. 

Cautiously,  noiselessly,  I  crawled  to  the 
round  bubble  of  glass  and  looked  down.  A 
curtain  of  embroidered  Indian  silk  was  drawn 
half  across,  but  through  the  open  space  that 
was  left  I  could  see  something  of  the  interior. 

The  jewelled  lamp  which  I  had  previously 
observed  hanging  from  the  centre  alone  illu- 
mined the  octagonal  room.  Now  that  I  was 

295 


THE    HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

on  the  roof  I  was  able  to  appreciate  more  than 
ever  the  smallness  of  the  studio.  There  was 
space  for  a  wide  passage  running  all  the  way 
round,  between  the  inner  walls  and  the  outer 
walls.  I  suspected  method  in  this  design — a 
secret  which  Wildred  had  cleverly  contrived  to 
hide,  and  which,  in  conjunction  with  the  mys- 
tery of  the  tower,  might  account  for  much  that 
had  been  dark  before. 

As  I  looked  a  figure  passed  into  my  line  of 
vision.  It  was  Wildred  walking  restlessly  up 
and  down  with  his  hands  behind  him.  I  could 
hear  the  murmur  of  his  voice,  though  through 
the  glass  of  the  skylight  the  words  were  not 
distinguishable. 

Suddenly  there  came  a  sharp  exclamation  in 
a  woman's  voice,  and  my  heart  gave  a  respon- 
sive bound.  Wildred  was  talking  to  Karine, 
and  it  was  she  who  had  answered  him  with  a 
cry. 

I  had  not  expected,  when  I  decided  upon 
trying  to  enter  like  a  burglar  through  the  sky- 
light, that  Karine  would  be  in  the  studio.  It 
would  doubtless  frighten  her  very  much  if  I 

296 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

should  suddenly  make  my  appearance  beside 
her  amid  a  shower  of  broken  glass,  and  I 
hesitated  so  to  alarm  her,  unless  the  man  down 
there  was  already  commencing  to  use  his  power 
to  torment  her.  If  she  would  only  go  out  and 
leave  me  to  give  Wildred  a  surprise  I  would 
have  been  thankful;  but  as  I  could  not  hope 
for  her  to  do  that,  I  determined  to  know  what 
her  companion  was  saying  to  her,  which  had 
caused  her  to  exclaim  in  astonishment  or  per- 
haps in  fear. 

I  took  out  my  pocket-knife,  and  with  great 
care  to  avoid  all  noise  I  began  to  loosen  one  of 
the  small  diamond-shaped  panes  from  its 
leaden  setting.  As  soon  as  it  was  released  at 
one  end  I  slipped  the  point  of  the  knife  under- 
neath and  so  raised  it  that  there  might  be  no 
danger  of  its  falling  downward  and  startling 
those  within  the  room. 


297 


CHAPTER   XXX 

CONCLUSION 

I  BENT  my  ear  over  the  tiny  aperture.  It 
made  all  the  difference  in  the  world.  I  could 
now  hear  every  word  that  Wildred  was  saying. 

"  I  have  always,  and  with  some  reason,  I 
think,"  was  the  first  sentence  that  I  caught, 
"  considered  myself  a  man  of  more  than  aver- 
age mental  ability.  I  am  usually  prepared  for 
any  traps  which  can  possibly  be  sprung  for  mei 
but  in  this  instance  I  find  I  have  made  my  one 
mistake.  I  believed  in  a  woman's  devotion. 
Probably  it  serves  me  right  to  have  been  de- 
ceived. Since  you  have  found  it  all  out 
through  her,  I  may  as  well  admit  to  you  that 
it  is  true.  She  did  live  here.  Nobody  sus- 
pected her  presence,  or  even  her  existence.  She 
was  very  useful  to  me  in  many  ways.  If  she 
had  proved  troublesome  I  could  have  rid  my- 
self of  her  at  any  time,  and  she  knew  it.  In- 

298 


CONCLUSION 

stead  of  doing  what  I  ought  to  have  done,  I 
believed  that  she  was  willing  to  go  away 
without  betraying  me,  and  I  let  her  go  free 
with  a  present  of  a  thousand  pounds.  She 
could  even  have  asked  for  more  when  that  was 
gone,  and  I  would  not  have  refused  her.  I  was 
a  fool  ever  to  marry  her,  but  she  was  the  hand- 
somest woman  I  had  seen  at  that  time,  and  as 
you  know  I  was  some  years  younger,  some  de- 
grees more  impulsive  than  I  am  now.  I  was 
still  more  of  a  fool  not  to  have  put  her  out  of 
the  way,  knowing  what  she  did — but  as  I  re- 
marked, that  was  the  mistake  of  a  lifetime. 
She  has  told  you  such  of  my  secrets  as  she 
knew,  she  has  shown  you  certain  things  in  this 
house  which  have  very  naturally  displeased  and 
shocked  you.  She  timed  her  return  very  well 
— jealous  idiot! — but  she  will  pay  for  what  she 
has  done." 

"  How  will  she  pay?  " 

I  could  not  see  Karine,  but  I  could  hear  her 
voice,  vibrant  with  the  fear  and  horror  that  she 
felt. 

"Better  not  ask;  the  question  doesn't  con- 
299 


THE    HOUSE   BY   THE    LOCK 

cern  you.  She  will  simply  become  familiar- 
ised with  the  secrets  of  the  House  by  the  Lock 
in  a  manner  upon  which  she  didn't  count,  that's 
all." 

"  I  had  never  pictured  Satan  himself  so 
cruel,  so  horrible  as  you,"  cried  Karine.  "I 
thank  heaven,  now  that  I  know  through  this 
wretched  woman  what  you  really  are,  that  not 
I,  but  she  is  your  wife !  " 

'  Yet  you  must  remain  with  me,  as  though 
you  knew  nothing  but  what  I  would  have 
had  you  know,  for  your  own  sake  and  your 
brother's. 

"  Had  it  not  been  for  that  f oolish  creature, 
who  has  ruined  herself  in  trying  to  ruin  you 
and  me,  we  might  have  been  happy  together, 
Karine.  I  admire  you  more  than  any  woman 
on  earth,  for  you  are  certainly  the  most  beau- 
tiful, and  your  coldness  to  a  man  of  my  tem- 
perament has  only  added  to  your  attractions 
as  a  girl.  As  a  married  woman  it  would  have 
been  different.  I  meant  to  make  you  love  me ; 
and  even  now,  Karine,  what  has  happened  that 
need  change  anything  between  us?  You  are 

300 


CONCLUSION 

not  a  conventional  little  fool,  as  are  some 
women  I  could  name,  and  the  love  of  a  man 
like  me  must  create  some  impression  on  your 
nature.  The  obstacle  which  you  think  stands 
between  us  shall  be  removed,  the  marriage 
ceremony  can  again  be  performed  over  us — 
secretly,  if  you  choose.  No  one  will  be  the 
wiser,  and  as  in  any  event  you  must  stay  here 
in  my  house " 

"  I  will  not.  Somehow  God  will  help  me  to 
escape,  and  then,  when  I  am  free  from  you,  I 
shall  let  such  friends  as  I  may  have  left  deal 
with  you  as  you  deserve." 

"  It's  difficult  to  see  how  you  will  get  away. 
It's  true  I  did  not  dream  that  Marion  would  be 
here  to  greet  us  or  I  would  not  have  brought 
you  to  this  house.  But  now  that  you  are  in  it 
you  will  stay.  No  one  knows  that  we  are  here 
— no  one  in  your  world,  at  least — and  I  intend 
that  we  shall  have  a  protracted  honeymoon. 
You  heard  how  some  vagabond,  some  tramp 
who  wished  to  get  in,  failed  just  now?  Well, 
it  is  just  as  difficult  for  strangers  to  escape 
from  the  House  by  the  Lock  as  it  is  for  them 

301 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

to  effect  an  entrance.  For  instance,  you  and  I 
are  now  cut  off  by  means  of  a  sliding  iron  door 
from  the  old  portion  of  the  house.  From  this 
there  is  absolutely  no  way  out,  unless  I  allow  it, 
save  one,  and  that  way  two  or  three  people  have 
already  found  by  going  through  a  certain  little 
door  hidden  behind  the  hangings.  I'll  show 
it  to  you,  if  you  like,  or  perhaps  the  lady 
who  told  you  so  much  has  told  you  that  as 
well?" 

"  She  has.  She  told  me  all  about  poor  Mr. 
Farnham,  how  you  made  him  believe  you  a 
friend  to  be  trusted,  how  you  induced  him  to 
smoke  opium — here  in  this  very  room — this 
awful  room — till  he  was  dazed  and  uncon- 
scious, and  how  he  only  roused  from  his  stupor 
just  as  you  were  going  to  burn  him  alive  in 
your  horrible  crematory.  She  told  me  how  the 
furnace  went  wrong  at  the  last  moment  and 
you  had  to  kill  him  in  a  different  way  from 
what  you  had  planned — less  easy  for  you,  more 
dangerous  of  discovery.  Oh,  the  horror  of 
listening  to  those  details,  for  she  spared  me 
nothing — nothing !  I  heard  from  her  how  Mr. 

302 


CONCLUSION 

Stanton  came  in  the  midst  of  the  dreadful  hap- 
penings on  Christmas  Day,  how  she  saw  him 
through  the  door,  and  afterwards,  when  he  had 
spoken  to  the  police,  how  you  bribed  her  with 
jewels  and  money  to  pretend  that  she  was  your 
cook,  that  she  had  screamed  with  the  pain  of 
burning  her  foot,  and  how  she  painted  her 
ankle  to  look  like  a  red  scar  when  she  had  to 
show  some  proof  of  her  story.  She  would 
have  been  true  to  you  through  everything,  she 
said — poor  misguided  woman — if  she  had  not 
been  taken  ill  and  stopped  in  London  instead 
of  going  to  France,  as  she  had  promised,  and 
so  seen  in  the  papers  about  our  coming  mar- 
riage. What  mockery  to  call  it  that ;  and  yet,  I 
thank  heaven  that  it  need  only  be  mockery — 
that  it  is  not  real. 

"  I  wonder  that  the  shock  of  finding  that 
woman  concealed  in  my  room — waiting  for  me 
to  come — did  not  drive  me  mad.  But  I  am  not 
mad,  and  such  wit  as  I  have  I  warn  you  I  shall 
devote  to  thwarting  you,  Carson  Wildred.  Do 
you  think  I  could  go  on  living  under  the  same 
roof  with  you,  even  if  I  were  in  reality  your 

303 


THE   HOUSE   BY   THE   LOCK 

wife?  No,  you  can  kill  me  if  you  like;  it 
is  the  only  way  in  which  you  can  keep  me 
here." 

He  did  not  answer  for  an  instant,  then  he 
said  slowly,  "Do  you  remember  just  putting 
your  name  on  a  paper  I  asked  you  to  sign  for 
me  with  my  stylographic  pen  in  the  train  this 
afternoon?  Well,  you  thought  it  was  merely  an 
order  for  letters  to  be  sent  on  to  your  new  ad- 
dress, but  it  was  something  rather  more  impor- 
tant than  that.  You  put  your  name  to  a 
document  which  leaves  all  the  money  of  which 
you  die  possessed  unreservedly  to  me.  I  have 
already  had  it  witnessed  by  my  servant  and 
another.  You  understand  to  what  this  points, 
perhaps?  If  you  show  yourself  amenable  to 
reason  I  shall  consider  you  a  wife  to  be  proud 
of,  and  there  is  no  ambition  which  we  need 
cherish  in  vain  if  we  are  to  live  our  lives  to- 
gether. But,  on  the  other  hand,  unless  you 
will  go  heart  and  soul  with  me,  ignoring  the 
past,  you  have  to-day  been  told  too  much  for 
my  safety  or — your  own.  What  if  you  should 
catch  a  serious  cold  here  at  the  House  by  the 

304 


CONCLUSION 

Lock?  Unfortunately,  the  place  is  rather 
damp,  though  so  charming  in  many  ways. 
You  might  have  an  attack  of  pneumonia.  Only 
fancy  how  the  world  would  sympathise  with  the 
husband  of  so  beautiful  and  popular  a  girl  as 
yourself  if  he  were  bereaved  of  you  during  the 
honeymoon?  " 

"  Oh,  you  are  horrible — horrible !  It  is  like 
death  even  to  listen  to  you ! "  cried  Karine. 
"If  only  there  was  a  soul  on  earth  to  help  me 
— but  there's  none — none !  " 

His  answer,  if  he  had  made  one,  was 
drowned  in  the  crashing  of  glass.  Better  that 
she  should  be  startled,  even  to  the  point  of 
swooning,  rather  than  endure  for  another  sec- 
ond the  torture  that  that  fiend  was  inflicting 
upon  her. 

I  broke  in  the  skylight  with  the  heavy  stick 
which  I  had  brought  up  to  the  roof  between 
my  teeth.  Then,  with  hands  cut  and  bleeding, 
despite  the  protection  of  my  gloves,  I  swung 
myself  down  and  dropped  on  to  the  floor. 

There  was  a  cry  from  Karine,  and  a  sharp 
exclamation  of  dismayed  astonishment  from 

305 


THE    HOUSE   BY    THE    LOCK 

Wildred,  for  once  outwitted.  I  had  never 
been  a  match  for  him  in  diplomacy,  but  when  it 
came  to  a  physical  encounter,  I  had  every  ad- 
vantage over  him,  and  I  knew  it. 

He  had  no  time  to  pull  out  the  knife  or 
revolver,  for  which  his  hand  flew  to  his  pocket, 
for  I  was  on  him,  taking  him  by  the  throat  and 
shaking  him  as  a  terrier  shakes  a  rat. 

I  had  not  stopped  even  to  look  at  Karine, 
and  yet  the  vision  of  her  pale  face  and  hands 
clasped  over  her  bosom  had  flashed,  lightning- 
like,  upon  my  consciousness.  "  Thank  heaven ! 
thank  heaven! "  I  could  hear  her  sob.  I 
hoped  that  she  did  not  look — that  she  had 
closed  her  eyes,  or  covered  them  with  her  hands, 
but  Wildred  did  not  give  me  time  to  make  sug- 
gestions. He  was  more  nimble,  if  he  was  less 
strong,  than  I. 

I  could  feel,  through  all  his  writhings,  that 
he  was  trying  to  force  me  along  with  him  to- 
wards a  certain  corner  of  the  room,  and,  realis- 
ing it,  resolved  to  thwart  him,  whatever  his 
object  might  be.  I  had  come  to  the  knowledge 
exactly  one  second  too  late,  however.  He  had 

306 


CONCLUSION 

managed  to  place  his  foot  on  a  bell  concealed 
under  one  of  the  rugs  on  the  floor,  and  I  heard 
its  summons  go  pealing  shrilly  out  through  the 
house. 

I  remembered  how  I  had  looked  for  a  bell  in 
this  room  once  before;  it  was  scarcely  to  be 
wondered  at,  considering  its  position,  that  I 
had  not  found  it. 

In  another  moment  the  servant-accomplice 
would  come  to  the  assistance  of  his  master. 
Had  it  not  been  for  Karine's  presence  I  felt 
that  I  should  not  have  found  it  difficult  in  my 
present  mood  to  have  held  them  both  in  check, 
but  as  it  was  I  should  greatly  have  preferred 
only  one  antagonist. 

The  struggle  in  which  I  was  engaged  with 
Wildred  had  degenerated  into  a  species  of 
wrestling  match.  I  had  him  down  on  one  knee 
at  last,  and  bending  his  arms  behind  him  while 
he  poured  forth  a  volley  of  deadly  oaths — his 
strange,  light  eyes  flashing  into  mine — I  at- 
tempted to  tie  his  hands  together  with  my  silk 
handkerchief,  wound  into  a  slip-knot  I  had 
learned  to  make  at  sea. 

307 


THE    HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

He  was  slippery  as  a  serpent  in  my  grasp, 
and  it  was  taking  all  I  knew  to  manage  him, 
when  a  cry  from  Karine  gave  me  the  first  warn- 
ing that  I  was  attacked  from  behind. 

The  confidential  man  had  stolen  in  as  noise- 
lessly as  I  had  crept  upon  the  roof  and  to  the 
skylight. 

"Take  that,  then! "  I  heard  him  snarl  sav- 
agely, and  a  low  exclamation  from  my  dar- 
ling told  me  that  in  some  way  he  had  revenged 
himself  upon  her.  For  an  instant  I  lost  my 
presence  of  mind  and  my  hold  upon  Wildred. 
Involuntarily  I  turned  to  go  to  Karine's  rescue, 
and  the  movement  was  a  fatal  one.  Wildred 
was  up  like  a  rod  of  steel  that  has  been  forcibly 
bent  backward.  The  two  threw  themselves 
upon  me  together.  I  felt  a  sharp,  hot  pain 
run  fiercely  through  my  side,  and  knew  that  I 
had  been  stabbed.  My  one  thought  was  for 
the  girl.  If  they  worked  their  will  upon  me, 
and  killed  me  before  her  eyes,  what  was  to  be- 
come of  her? 

"Run,  Karine — escape!"  I  panted.  I  could 
not  see  her,  but  I  was  assured  that  she  had  not 

308 


CONCLUSION 

obeyed  by  the  loud  screams  for  help  which  she 
was  desperately  uttering. 

Again  I  got  Wildred  down,  but  the  other 
man  was  on  top  of  me,  and  for  the  second  time 
I  felt  the  burning  pain,  this  time  in  my 
shoulder.  I  fought  like  a  mad  creature  now, 
with  the  intent  to  kill,  which  I  had  not  had  be- 
fore; but  the  conviction  grew  within  me  that, 
battle  as  I  might,  the  effort  would  be  all  in 
vain. 

Sparks  danced  before  my  eyes,  and  then 
everything  grew  dim.  Out  of  chaos  came  a 
shriek  from  Karine.  Could  it  be  a  cry  of  joy? 
What  reason  was  there  for  rejoicing? 

But  there  followed  a  renewed  crashing  of 
glass,  the  muffled  thud  of  feet  descending  from 
a  height  upon  the  soft  surface  of  rugs,  and  the 
sound  of  men's  voices. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  Cunningham's  was 
among  them,  but  a  strange,  cold  pall  of  dark- 
ness enveloped  me,  and  I  knew  no  more. 

Afterwards  I  learned  how  it  was  that 
•Cunningham,  with  two  detectives  from  Scot- 

309 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

land  Yard,  had  arrived  in  the  very  "  nick  of 
time." 

His  statements  to  the  police  authorities  had 
been  necessarily  so  elaborate,  and  had  been 
deemed  so  extraordinary,  that  it  had  taken 
some  time  to  create  the  desired  impression  at 
headquarters. 

He  had  been  stiU  at  "  The  Yard  "  when  my 
wire  had  arrived.  When  at  last  he  had  induced 
the  "  powers  that  be  "  to  grant  a  warrant  for 
Wildred's  arrest  on  suspicion  of  having  mur- 
dered Harvey  Farnham,  and  to  send  a  couple 
of  men  to  the  House  by  the  Lock,  where  my 
telegram  had  announced  that  he  was  probably 
to  be  found,  it  was  too  late  to  catch  anything 
save  the  ten  o'clock  train. 

Having  reached  the  door  of  the  grim  old 
mansion,  Karine's  cries  for  help,  ringing  out 
upon  the  night  through  the  broken  skylight, 
had  told  them  in  which  direction  to  proceed, 
and  they  had  used  the  same  method  of  sur- 
mounting the  obstacles  which  I  had  adopted 
and  left  for  them. 

The  servant  was  secured,  but  Wildred,  see- 
310 


CONCLUSION 

ing  with  his  usual  quickness  that  all  hope  of 
escape  was  over,  had  shot  himself  through  the 
heart  before  the  officers  could  reach  him.  So 
died  a  man  who  had  accomplished  the  death  of 
many  another,  and  through  his  humble  accom- 
plice (who  now  breaks  stones  at  Portland), 
and  the  wretched  wife  found  prisoned  in  a 
room  upstairs,  the  secrets  of  his  numerous 
crimes  and  the  dark  House  by  the  Lock  were 
revealed. 

It  was  not  for  many  a  day  after  that  night's 
terrible  experience  that  I  heard  all  the  truth. 
What  with  the  two  wounds  I  had  received,  and 
the  strain  of  the  past  few  weeks,  which  had 
begun  to  tell  upon  me  at  last,  for  a  time  I  lay 
in  rather  a  precarious  condition.  But  one 
morning  I  woke  to  consciousness,  and  found 
that  the  beautiful  face  which  had  been  near  me 
in  my  dreams  was  present  in  reality.  Karine 
and  her  brother  had  nursed  me  through  more 
than  a  fortnight's  illness. 

Had  I  been  quite  myself  I  would  have  felt 
that  then  was  not  the  time  to  speak  of  love  to 
the  girl  who  had  endured  so  much.  But  the 

311 


THE   HOUSE  BY   THE   LOCK 

words  were  uttered  before  my  judgment  would 
let  me  restrain  them,  as  it  so  often  had  done  in 
the  first  sweet,  sad  days  of  our  acquaintance. 

"  Forgive  me,"  I  said  weakly.  "  I'm  a 
brute.  You've  been  such  an  angel  to  me — and 
I  oughtn't  to  have  told  you  now." 

"Oughtn't  you?"  she  answered  softly. 
"Do  you  remember  my  saying  one  evening  at 
the  Savoy  Hotel  that  there  was  only  one  thing 
in  the  world  which  might  even  then  keep  me 
from  making  a  marriage  that  was  horrible  to 
me?" 

"  I  remember  well,"  I  returned.  "  I  remem- 
ber everything  you  ever  said  to  me.  Will  you 
tell  me  what  that  one  thing  was?  " 

"  I  meant  if  you  Jiad  loved  me.  Sometimes 
I — thought  you  did,  but  you  would  never  say 
so.  You  only  asked  to  be  *  my  friend.' ' 

"Oh,  if  I  had  but  known— if  I  had  but 
dared ! "  I  exclaimed.  "  I  was  perishing  of 
love  for  you  from  the  first  night  I  ever  saw 
your  face.  Is  it  too  late  now?  I  don't  ask  to 
be  your  friend,  I  ask  to  be  everything — your 
lover,  and  your  husband." 

312 


CONCLUSION 

"  And  I  give  you  everything,"  she  said. 

So  it  came  about  that  the  sunshine  of  happi- 
ness drove  forth  the  black  shadows  which  would 
fain  have  lingered  to  haunt  us  like  ghosts  from 
the  House  by  the  Lock. 


THE  END 


313 


BE 


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